Knick Knacks
by Maisy13
Summary: A string of burglaries accelerate to murder. The team search for the killers and find more than they bargained for. I never know where my mind will go, so the rating is just in case. GSR. Complete
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** CSI and its characters do not belong to me. I don't make any money off of them. All other characters and the story do. I don't make money off them either. 

**A/n:** This is my second casefile. It picks up on the case Catherine was working in "Where Secrets Lie". Starts after "Empty Eyes", reference to that episode, but no actual spoilers. I know some of you have been waiting for this with baited breath. LOL I work hard to catch any mistakes, but if you see one, please let me know and I will fix it. Please review, I like to know what you think, and I usually try to reply to them.

* * *

**Chapter 1**

Catherine reached over and snagged the last Danish on the plate a mere second before Greg's hand got there. She winked at him as she took a big bite.

Greg gave her an injured look. "Ah c'mon Cath, my mom made me promise to start my day off with a full stomach. After all, as she says, I'm still a growing boy."

Cath raised an eyebrow at him. "Greg, you've already eaten three Danishes, if your stomach's not full yet, I doubt one more would get you there. How 'bout I call dear mom and fill her in on a few of your other appetites? I doubt she'd still be all that concerned with the state of your stomach."

"Huh, you'd do that to, wouldn't you? Fine, enjoy your Danish." He got up and walked over to the fridge. When he turned around he was holding a very large donut. Giving her a wide smile, he stuffed half the donut into his mouth.

Catherine shook her head, half amused, half disgusted. "Greg, you truly are amazing."

He winked at her and she looked away. Nick looked up from where he sat reading on the other side of the table. When he saw what Greg was eating, he gasped. "Hey! That was mine. Just for that, you're buying my lunch."

Greg opened his mouth to respond, but was forestalled by Grissom coming in. "Catherine, Nick, you guys have a 419 out in Seven Hills. Looks like there are two dead bodies." He looked over to Greg. "Greg, you and I have a burglary at a jewelry store downtown. Sara is taking a personal day, and Warrick starts his vacation today, so hopefully nothing else will come in. Sara did say to call her in if we needed to, but I hope that won't be necessary."

"Yeah, she should take a little time. That last case was really rough for her." Nick said as he stood. He looked at Cath. 'I have to stop by my locker, how 'bout I meet you at the car in say, ten minutes?"

"Sure." She turned to Grissom. "Hey, can I talk to you a minute?"

Grissom looked to the younger CSI. "Greg, why don't you go load the car, and I'll meet you there."

"Sure thing." Greg said as he scooted out the door.

"What do you need Catherine?" Grissom leaned against the corner of the table.

"I'm- I'm just a little worried about Sara. Don't you think she needs more than just one night?" Catherine crossed her arms. "I mean, considering how personally she can take some of her cases."

Grissom stared at her a moment. "Maybe you should talk to her if you're so worried. Any of us would have been affected by having someone die in our arms, but I've talked to her, and though she was upset, I don't believe it'll be something that'll affect her in the long run."

"Gil, you're not exactly in tune with the people around you. I'm just saying, she may be more upset than you realize." She walked towards the door.

"Cath, I really don't think that's the case, but if you're really worried why don't you call her and get together for dinner or something. I'm sure that once you talk, you'll see that there's nothing to worry about."

She looked back at him from the doorway. "I might just do that. In fact, I'll give her a call in the morning."

Grissom shook his head, watching as she walked away. Now he had to call and warn Sara. She wasn't going to be too happy about this turn of events.

* * *

Catherine and Nick walked up the front drive of a rather imposing house, more of a mansion really. The front lawn was suspiciously green, rolling down from the front of the house to the breakfront of trees that shielded it from the busy street. Nick whistled. "Man, I wouldn't want their water bill." 

"I'm sure you'll find Nick, that no amount of watering would keep a lawn this green in our hot desert climate. No, going by the lack of bushes and flower beds, and the consistent green of the lawn, I'd peg this as artificial turf."

"Oh, well I guess that makes sense." Nick knelt down and felt the grass. "Feels real enough."

Catherine gazed around. "Yeah, well I guess they could afford the good stuff. I don't know. I realize that it makes sense on a certain level, but I have to wonder, if the lawn is fake, what else are they faking?" They continued up the drive, each lost in their thoughts.

Brass met them at the front door. "Hey guys, we've got two bodies. Male and female, the male is Jake Bass; he lived here with his wife, Rose Bass. She's not the female vic. Female vic has yet to be identified. The wife says she doesn't recognize her, and there's no ID on her." They followed him over to the bodies. They were both fully dressed, and lay a few feet apart from each other.

David was leaning over the male body. He looked up as they stood there. "Hey guys, looks like he was shot twice. Once in the thigh, bullet was a through and through. That wound probably wasn't immediately fatal. Most likely cause of death was a shot to the heart. We'll now more after Doc gets through with him."

Brass pointed to an object laying a few feet away. "Ballistics will have to confirm, but the murder weapon could be that .22.

Catherine looked from the vic to the gun. "Could be, odds are though if the killer left it here then it isn't traceable. Could even belong to the vic." She turned to David who was now kneeling by the female vic. "What about her?"

"The female is a whole other kettle of fish. She doesn't have any gun shot wounds." He indicated her head. Her hair was matted with blood. "COD appears to be a blow to the head, though I did notice a cut on her right hand."

"So, we have two vics, killed by two different means. Hey David? Do you have a TOD yet?"

"Took liver temp on them both, with that added to the fact that they're just entering rigor, I'd place their time of death four to five hours ago." Seeing the look of Catherine's face, he answered her unasked question. "There's no way I can tell at this time who died first. I'd say it was within minutes of each other. Maybe we can tell more back at the lab."

"Okay, thanks David. Give us a few minutes to go over the bodies for trace, then you can take them." Catherine turned to Brass. "Have you talked to the wife yet?"

"Just about to go and do that. You want to join me?" Brass swept his hand towards the kitchen where the wife was waiting.

"Um…" Catherine's gaze went from the bodies on the floor, to the kitchen door.

"Go on Cath, I've got the bodies." Nick said from his position on the floor.

"Thanks Nick." She looked to Brass

Brass nodded. "After you." She smiled and they walked through the door.

* * *

"Mrs. Bass, we know you've had quite a shock, but if you could answer a few questions, we might be able to get out of here a little sooner." Catherine watched the woman sitting at the kitchen table, her hands wrapped around a steaming mug of coffee. She was a petit woman with bright red hair and clear green eyes. She was dressed casually, but the kind of casual only money could buy. She looked like butter wouldn't melt in her mouth, although there were traces of tears in her eyes. If she had cried, her makeup was unaffected. 

"I just want whoever is responsible to be caught." Mrs. Bass sniffed.

"First of all, can you tell us where you were this afternoon?" Brass asked as he flipped open his notebook.

"What does that have to do with what happened here?" Mrs. Bass asked wide eyed.

Brass and Catherine shared a look. "Mrs. Bass, we have to be able to account for everyone's whereabouts. It's just a standard question we have to ask.

"Oh, well if that's the case, I went shopping, had lunch with the girls, and earlier this morning, I had a tennis game with some friends at the club."

"What time did you arrive back home?" Brass asked, scribbling quickly.

"Um, around nine. I didn't come straight to the… the room they were in though. I came in through the kitchen entrance." At this she indicated the door on the other side of the room. "I took my shopping up the back stairs, there." She pointed to the staircase on the opposite wall from the door. "I put up my purchases, and took a shower. I came down around ten and figured I'd find Jake in his office, but I found him before I got there. I had to go through the sitting room to get to his office, and that's when I saw them laying there."

"And you're sure you don't know the female vic?" Cath asked, leaning against the counter.

"No. All I can figure is that she was a client. Jake was a lawyer and sometimes he'd meet with clients here." She reached for a pack of cigarettes sitting on the table. With shaking fingers she lit one with a gold lighter, and inhaled a lungful of smoke. She held it in for a few seconds and slowly exhaled. She repeated this action twice more before looking back at them. "Is that all?"

"No ma'am, we're not done yet." Brass scratched his head. "When was the last time you saw your husband alive?"

She sniffed. "This morning, around seven." She stubbed out the butt of her cigarette in a crystal ashtray.

"Did he happen to mention his plans for the day?" Brass watched as she lit another cigarette.

"Um, he was going into the office to pick up some paperwork, but he said he was going to come back and work from home today. He does that sometimes, not often though."

"Did you happen to notice anything else out of place? Anything missing?" Catherine picked up the questioning.

"Now that you mention it, when I came in I noticed that a pair of vases that are normally in the kitchen weren't there. They usually sit on the mantle over there." She motioned toward an area of the kitchen that had been made into a sitting area. There was a flat screen television over the mantle, but the mantle itself was empty. "I thought maybe the maid had moved them to dust the mantle, and had forgotten to replace them."

"Do you think you could look around, see if anything else is out of place?" Catherine asked, gesturing around the house.

Mrs. Bass was quiet for a few moments. "Sure, why not. Anything to wrap this up."

She stood and moved toward the next room. In the dinning room she paused. "There… there should be a painting over that mantle. It's worth a good amount of money, but it's not by a well known artist. At least he's not well known in the States. We got that painting on our last vacation to Europe. A small town in Italy." She let her gaze travel around the room. "And a couple of statuettes that were bought at the same time. They're also missing."

By the time they'd gone through the rest of the house, she'd listed two more paintings, and three other small pieces of art. "I don't understand. Why not take my jewelry? Or the electronics? That stuff would be more easily sold. These works are worth a good bit, but you'd have to know something about them to know that. They're just not that well known. In a few years perhaps, but not now."

For her part, Catherine had a bad feeling about this. "Mrs. Bass, do you and you husband have any kind of surveillance on the house? Cameras, motion detectors?"

"We have cameras set on motion detectors focused on the doors and downstairs windows. If the detectors are turned on, then if someone opens a door or window it's caught on tape. I-I wanted privacy in the rest of the house."

"Mrs. Bass, I can't be entirely certain about this until I look at the evidence, but this may be the work of some people we've been trying to find. They've hit a number of places over the last few months. I assure you we're going to do all we can to put these guys behind bars." Catherine excused herself to go talk to Nick.

Catherine walked in to find Nick leaning over the female vic with a magnifying glass. "Hey, did you find something?"

"Well so far, nothing. On either victim. They do have surveillance, so maybe we'll find something on the tapes." He looked up at her from where he was kneeling.

Catherine shook her head. "I doubt it. Looks like those burglaries I've been investigating have escalated to murder.

**TBC…**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** I do not own CSI or any of its characters. All other characters and the story are mine. 

**A/n:** Thanks to everyone who reviewed the first chapter. I hope you enjoy chapter two, and please let me know what you think.

* * *

**Chapter 2**

Nick leaned over the mantle in the kitchen, focusing on a small drop of blood near the edge. Without looking away, he brought his camera up, and said aloud to Catherine who was dusting for prints on the door leading to the garage. "Hey, I found some blood." He snapped a picture of the drop, then pulled a swab out of his kit and scrubbed it over the area. "Seems kinda sloppy for people who never leave any evidence behind." The directionality of the drop pointed toward the edge of the mantle. Nick looked down at the hearth. He knelt down examining the rug for further drops of blood. Finding none, he sighed and looked up. His eyes landed on the wing chair that faced the fireplace. It was cream with rose stripes, and on the headrest was a dark stain. Plucking a swap from his kit, he wet it with a saline solution and swabbed it over the stain. He then dripped a drop of phenolphthalein reagent on the swab. "Positive for blood. So, someone cut themselves, most likely with something on the shelf, and they left a drop there, then wiped the blood off on this chair." He stood up and looked to Catherine. "Either the killers did this, or the Bass's had some rude guests."

Catherine stood up from her crouched position. "Well, I'm getting lots of smudged prints, and a couple of clean ones, but I'm pretty sure they'll come back to the Bass's. Also, David noticed a cute on the female victim's hand, so it's possible that it's her blood, and has nothing to do with the robbery." She bagged the print lifts and placed her print brush and powder back into her kit. "I've printed every room in this house. Found lots of prints, but I'm sure, like these on the door, they'll just come back to the vic and his wife. Maybe even the female vic left some, but I doubt the killers will be among them."

"I've gone over everything, and this blood in the only thing that I've found. I think it's time to head back to the lab. Maybe Doc can tell us more about the bodies." Nick bagged the swabs and closed his kit. Picking it up, he headed toward the front of the house. Catherine joined him. Mrs. Bass was waiting in her husbands' office.

Catherine pushed open the door and found Mrs. Bass on the phone; she held out a finger and said to whoever was on the other end. "Okay, I'll get back to you with that information." She hung up and turned toward them. "Are you guys done?"

"For now, but we're going to have to leave the place as is for a couple of days at least." Catherine gestured to the officer who had been standing guard outside the office door. "This officer will escort you upstairs so you can pack some clothes. You'll have to stay at a hotel or with a family member while this remains a crime scene."

Mrs. Bass stared at them, aghast. "But, this is my home. You're kicking me out of my home right after my husband was killed?"

Nick held out a placating hand. "We're sorry ma'am, but while we're investigating we might have to come back here to gather more information, and we need to make sure nothing is moved. We realize this is an imposition, but I assure you it's all to help us find the people who did this."

Mrs. Bass closed her eyes for a few moments and put her hand to her forehead. Her hair fell forward to obscure her face. Finally she looked up. "If you think it's really necessary, then I'll go to a hotel. Just promise me you'll find the people who did this."

Catherine crossed the room to stand before her. "I'd love to give you that promise, Mrs. Bass, but the truth is, so far we have very little evidence. I do promise that we will do our utmost to find the culprits." The two woman's eyes connected for a long moment, finally Mrs. Bass nodded.

"Okay. I'll just go and pack a few things. It might be too painful to stay here tonight anyway." She walked across the room and preceded the officer out of the door.

* * *

Grissom walked into his office and closed the door. He hadn't had a chance all night to call Sara, and he wanted to catch her before Catherine was able to surprise her. The jewelry store robbery has turned out to take longer to process than he'd thought it would. The owner had been overly inquisitive, and had wanted to follow them around to make sure they weren't causing any further damage to the store. They'd finally had to sic Sofia on him. After that, things had progressed more smoothly. Luckily, there hadn't been much physical evidence to bring back with them, so Greg had been able to handle it all. Picking up his phone, he hit the speed dial for home. 

The phone was on its fourth ring, and Sara had yet to pick up. Glancing at his watch, he realized that though it felt late to him, it was only four in the morning. Sara finally picked up on the sixth ring. "Hello?" Her voice was very throaty, and it took his mind immediately to mornings they woke up together, and that voice spoke of far more intimate things. His mind was about to meander down that road, when she spoke again. "Hello? Gil is that you?" Now she sounded irritated.

"Yeah… er, yes, it's me. Sorry to call so early, but I wanted to warn you about something." He heard rustling and knew that she was sitting up in bed. His mind almost wandered off again.

"What did you want to warn me about?" She grabbed his pillow, which she'd been hugging while she slept, and tucked it behind her head with her own pillow, using them to prop herself against the headboard. He was silent for a few seconds, and she cleared her throat to get his attention. "Gil? Is something wrong?"

He still sounded sort of vague when he answered. "No, no. I – I just keep thinking about lying there next to you, and it distracts me. Anyway, I wanted to warn you that Catherine is going to be calling you this morning. She's worried about you, and thinks you might need someone to talk to."

"Oh, well she needn't worry, but I guess there's no way for her to know I've got someone to kiss me and make it better. In fact, I was just having a wonderful dream in which that someone was kissing me in the most delectable places, and I was feeling way more than better."

She heard a faint moan over the line. "Don't start talking like that. You know it's not…" He stopped talking abruptly.

"Gil?" He heard her, but was distracted by Catherine, who'd knocked on his door and stepped in before he could ask who was there.

"Gil, we have a problem… Oh, sorry. I didn't know you were on the phone." She stopped halfway to his desk. He held up a finger and went back to the call.

"Just remember to expect that call." He said in a much more formal voice.

Sara smiled. "Sure will, and now I think I'll go back to my dream. I was just about to get around to doing some kissing of my own." She blew a kiss, and hung up.

Catherine watched with intrigue as Grissom's face reddened. He hung up and turned to her.

"You needed something Catherine?" He watched as she came forward and sat down, all the time looking at him curiously.

"Uh, I just wanted to let you know that the 419 turned into something a little bit more. You remember those B&E cases I've been working?" He nodded. "Looks like they've escalated to murder. Won't know for sure until we analyze the evidence, and even then the only way to confirm it is to actually have a lack of evidence, but it looks to be heading that way."

"People are rarely able to stick with their MO, and escalate at the same time. If they don't normally leave evidence, but this time something happened to change up the plan, then there is a bigger likelihood that they made mistakes." Grissom pointed out.

"Yeah, but so far the only thing differing from the other crimes is that they left two dead bodies. Oh, and we found a couple of drops of blood." Catherine shifted in her seat. "Wendy's comparing it to the DNA we took from the bodies, and the wife gave us a sample for comparison, and she contacted the help to get them to come in a give us a sample, and I dropped a ton of fingerprints off with Mandy, but it'll take her awhile to get through them."

"Any idea who the female vic is yet?" Grissom leaned forward and tapped his pen on the blotter.

"Not yet. Nick got her prints, and is uploading them into AFIS now. Hopefully we'll have an identity within the next few hours." She glanced at her watch. "I've go to get down to see what Doc has from the prelim." She stood up and hesitated. "Gil…"

The door behind her opened, and Nick stuck his head in, interrupting her. "Hey Cath, we got lucky. An ID on our Jane Doe popped up as soon as I uploaded her prints. Her name is Samantha Lawrence, and she's in the system for shoplifting. So, I guess she was a client."

Catherine smiled and walked toward him. "I don't think so Nick. Mr. Bass was a corporate lawyer, and wouldn't be handling the case of a shoplifter." She slapped him on the shoulder. "So, let's go find out why Ms. Lawrence was with Mr. Bass."

Grissom watched them leave, and let out a relived sigh. He'd been sure Catherine had been about to ask him about that call. He turned to his paperwork, but his mind kept drifting back to Sara, and the dream she'd been having. Maybe he should go and check on Greg's progress, see if he could get out a bit early today.

**TBC...**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** I do not own CSI or any of its characters. The story and all other characters are mine.

**A/n:** This is a short chapter, but that couldn't be helped. If I'd tried to write longer, this wouldn't have been up on time. Thank you for the reviews, they really make my day. Please review and tell me what you think. If you see any mistakes, let me know that too. Also, the Egg and I Restaurant is a real restaurant. I've never been there, as I've never been to LV, but it got a good rating on the website I visited. If you've been there, let me know how it was.

* * *

**Chapter 3**

After spending the last two hours searching for any mention of Samantha Lawrence, Catherine had come up with nothing more than a minor criminal record. At the time of the first arrest, four years ago, she'd been twenty-three. That arrest had been for stealing a purse and a lipstick from a Wal-Mart. Six months later she'd been picked up driving a stolen BMW, and had confessed to finding it with the keys in the ignition, and deciding to take it for a spin. The owner, most likely embarrassed at leaving the keys in the car, had not pressed charges, and she'd gotten off with the minor charge of joyriding. Ms. Lawrence wasn't exactly a criminal mastermind. Catherine hadn't been able to find a record of her before that arrest, nor had she found anything on her since. But no one could remain hidden for long, and sooner or later they would know exactly who they were dealing with. Until then, Catherine decided to go and check with Archie, who was going over the video surveillance footage.

* * *

"I've gone over the video from the cameras facing the front door and the garage door, and so far, there's nothing. Either the killers are ghosts, or they know where the cameras are. It's the same as with the other B&E video footage." Archie leaned back in his chair. "I still have to go over the footage from the downstairs windows, but I don't hold out much hope."

"How far back have you gone on the video?" Catherine asked as she scooted a chair over to sit next to him.

"The tape is the kind that records for twenty-four hours. Nick said that the murder took place at about five pm, so I started the tape about an hour before that." Archie turned to look at her and took notice of the look on her face. "You want me to go back further, don't you?"

"It would be good to know at exactly what time Mr. Bass got back home and what time the female victim showed up. So yeah, going back further would be great."

Archie smiled, the dimple in his check deepening. "Aye, Commander, but it's almost end of shift, do you mind if I pick this back up tonight? I wouldn't ask, but I kinda have plans for this morning, and it would be hard to change them."

Catherine nodded. "Sure Archie, it won't hurt to wait for a while longer. I doubt the killers are anywhere on the tape anyway, just like the other times. So, you got a hot date?"

Archie hedged. "Something like that. It's just something that I have to do." Catherine could see that he was uncomfortable with the subject, so she let it go.

"I'm going to check with Nick, maybe he and Mandy have been able to sort through some of those fingerprints." She stopped at the door and turned back. "Have a good day Archie."

* * *

Catherine was about to enter the fingerprint lab when she heard laughter coming from inside. Peeking around the door, she saw Nick leaning on the counter. He was saying something, but she couldn't quite hear what was being said. Knocking on the door, she walked in. Nick looked up smiling. "Hey guys, making any headway on those prints?"

"So far the only prints I've matched belong to either Mr. Bass or his wife. None belong to the female vic. There are a ton more to go through though." Mandy answered as she scanned another print into the computer.

"Okay, I really didn't expect anything else." She turned to Nick and asked. "Did Wendy say when she would be able to get to the DNA?"

"She said she'd get it started as soon as possible, but she couldn't give us a definite time that it would be done." Nick straightened and stretched.

Catherine glanced at her watch. "Okay, well its quitting time, so why don't you finish up what you feel like, then go on home. You can finish up tonight."

"Thanks, there's not too many left to scan in, I'll just get that done before I leave. I've got double what you brought me for Grissom's case. I don't want to get too backed up. Lord knows what'll come in tonight."

Catherine nodded and left them to finish.

Deciding to go and update Grissom on the case, she turned the corner and stopped short at his darkened office. Shaking her head, she turned to go the other way, muttering. "That man is leaving earlier and earlier every day. Maybe Nick's onto something." Glancing at her watch, she noticed it was after eight. "Well, maybe I should leave also." Remembering that she'd planned to call Sara, she headed for her office to find her number.

* * *

Grissom slowly closed the door, making sure not to make any noise. Gently setting the paperwork he'd brought home on the entryway table, he walked quietly down the hallway. Reaching the bedroom door, he pushed it open. Peeking in, he saw Sara curled around his pillow, sleeping peacefully. Smiling, he walked over to her and sat on the edge of the bed. He reaching up, he pushed a lock of hair behind her ear. She smiled in her sleep. Leaning down, he kissed her cheek. She sighed and turned her head towards his, her eyes slowly opening. "Good morning." She whispered.

"Good morning. I see you were able to drift back to sleep after I called you." He propped his hand beside her hip.

"Well, with dreams like I had to return to, that's no surprise." She wrapped her and around his wrist and slid it up his arm, finally stopping when she reached his face, cupping his cheek. "Are you willing to make those dreams come true?" She asked, her eyes blazing with desire.

Smiling, he leaned in to kiss her, but mere moments before their lips met the phone on the bedside table rang. Their heads turned towards it at the same time. Turning back to look at each other, they laughed. She reached over and grabbed the phone, while he straightened and stood up. "Hello?" She asked, her voice still husky with desire.

"Hello, Sara? It's Catherine. I was just calling to ask you out for breakfast. I thought maybe we could talk over things that have happened lately." Catherine sat in her chair, tapping her pen on the blotter. She had the feeling she'd interrupted something.

Sara cleared her throat. "Um, yeah sure. Where do you want to meet?"

"How about we try somewhere new? Do you have any ideas?" Catherine swiveled in her chair.

"Oh well, you know me. As long as there's something meatless on the menu, I'm good. I did hear about this place called Egg and I Restaurant. Sounds like it might be good." Sara watched as Grissom undressed, putting away the dirty clothes in the hamper and putting his shoes in their correct place in the closet. She smiled as he wandered over to the dresser, and studied his face in the mirror. She had tuned Catherine out for a second, so it took her a second to notice into what she was saying.

"…not that place with the mystery dinner show." Catherine sounded disgusted.

"No, they only do that show at night, breakfast should be performance free." Grissom had gone into the bathroom to shower, and Sara became distracted again. "Hey Cath, why don't I meet you there at say…" She broke off to look at the bedside clock. When she saw it was already half past nine, she shook her head. "Let's say ten-thirty. I'd like to do a quick shower first."

"Sure, okay. See you there." Catherine put down the phone, puzzling over Sara's last words. What an odd way to say you wanted to shower. Shaking her head, she headed to the locker room to change.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:** I do not own CSI or any of its characters. I do own all other characters and the story. 

**A/n:** Okay, I know this chapter is short, but I wanted a little something light because the next few chapters should be case intensive. Please review. It makes my day to get those alerts. Oh, and the food mentioned in this chapter is actually available in the actual restaurant. I checked out the menu online. Again, please let me know if you see any grammer/spelling mistakes.

**Chapter 4 **

**

* * *

**Sara looked around the restaurant while she waited for Catherine. She'd gotten here later then planned, but she'd still beat Cath. Smiling, she thought back to the reason she'd been late. She could still feel Grissoms soapy hands slipping over her bare skin. She was just remembering the feel of his hands sliding down her wet belly when she was startled out of her reverie with the snap of fingers in front of her face. "Sara? Are you okay?" 

Blinking, Sara looked up as Catherine slid into the opposite chair. "Hm? Oh, I'm fine. Just…" she trailed off.

"Fantasying?" Cath guessed. She smiled and picked up her menu.

"Something like that." Sara had trouble hiding her own beaming smile.

"Ah, so I guess you're seeing someone." Cath teased.

"You could say that." Sara evaded. "So, what looks good?" She picked up her own menu, and began to look it over.

Catherine studied her for a moment, but decided to let it go. "Um, well I don't know about you, but the Eggs Benedict looks good."

Sara arched an eyebrow. "With ham? I don't think so."

Catherine nodded. "Sorry." She looked down at her menu "Wait, they do have a Veggie Benedict."

Sara looked back down at her menu and her eyes fell on the Belgian waffles. "That sounds good, but these look better." She looked up to find a waitress coming towards their table.

She smiled at them and sat down two glasses of water. "What can I get you ladies?" she asked, pulling out her bill pad.

Catherine and Sara gave her their order. Once she'd gone, Cath turned to Sara. "So, how are you doing?"

"Fine, just fine. Why do you ask?" Sara inquired.

"Well, it's just after what happened on that showgirl case… I just thought you might need someone to talk to." She looked up as the waitress placed her cup of coffee in front of her. "Thanks." She nodded to the waitress. "You know, it does no good to bury your feelings. You need to talk these things out."

Sara stared at her, as close to speechless as she'd ever come. Finally she rallied and was able to speak. "Um, thanks Catherine. I appreciate the concern, but I assure you I haven't buried anything. I learned awhile back the danger of that, so when something… um, weighs on my mind, I… I make sure to discuss it with someone."

Catherine absently stirred her coffee as she listened to this. "So, you're seeing someone? A counselor?"

Sara took a sip of the orange juice she'd ordered, giving the answer some thought. "I have talked to a counselor in the past, but lately I find it better to talk to a friend."

"Good, good. So, do I know this friend?" Catherine couldn't resist a little snooping.

"I…" She was saved from having to come up with something as the waitress returned with their food. "Thanks," she looked at her nametag, "Jenny. This really looks good." She subtly looked at her watch as the Catherine was distracted with a problem with her food. She and Grissom had arranged an escape for her if she needed it. He was supposed to call at eleven fifteen. Depending on how much she wanted to leave, she could make up a suitable excuse. It was now eleven ten, and she knew that as soon as he called she'd make her excuses. Catherine was asking questions she couldn't really answer. All she had to do was keep her mouth shut for five more minutes, and what better way to keep it shut, then by keeping it full. On that thought, she took a big bite of waffle.

Catherine watched as a myriad of expressions crossed Sara's face. She had the feeling she wouldn't be getting any more answers. She tucked into her meal, waiting to see if Sara would resume what she'd been about to say before their food arrived. Finally Sara looked up and noticed that Catherine was studying her. She opened her mouth to say something, but her phone cut her off. Catherine could swear she gave a sigh of relief as she answered. She couldn't tell much from this end of the conversation, but it definitely sounded like she would be leaving soon, so she was surprised when she heard her say, "Sure, I'll tell her."

Sara hung up and looked up at Catherine. "That was Grissom. Something's come up on your case, and your phone seems to be going straight to voicemail."

Catherine pulled out her phone to see that it had indeed turned off. "Huh, the battery must be low." She looked up confused. "Why did he call you?"

Sara blinked. "He said that when they couldn't reach you on your cell, or at home, they called him, and he remembered that you'd mentioned calling me. Being a man of logic, he then determined that he could probably get you by calling me."

"Oh, well did he say what was up?" She wanted a break in the case, but her breakfast was the first thing she'd had to eat in over ten hours, and except for the fact she was still waiting on the extra hollandaise sauce, it was heaven.

"Something about an odd print. It was the very last one Mandy scanned in, and I guess something interesting came up." Sara watched her closely, hoping she would choose to go back in instead of staying here.

Sighing, Catherine signaled the waitress. "All I have to say is that better be one extraordinary print." She asked the waitress for a take out plate, and a coffee to go. "Well enjoy your breakfast, and don't worry. I'm taking care of the bill. It's the least I could do for dragging you out so early."

"Thanks. I'll have to repay the favor some time. I hope you got the break in the case you needed." Sara watched as Catherine gathered her things.

Catherine stood and took the Styrofoam plate from the waitress. Inside was an extra cup of sauce and Cath smiled. She transferred her food, and closed the lid. Looking up at Sara she shrugged. "You and me both. See ya."

Sara watched as she paid the bill and left. She looked down at her plate, and decided that she had something ten times better waiting at home. She stood, thanked the waitress, and left a tip, just to be nice. Smiling at the day to come, she left the restaurant.

**TBC…**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer:** I do not own CSI, or its characters. I do not make any money off them. I do own the other characters and the story, but I make no money off them either.

**A/n:** Hope you enjoy this chapter. You'll notice the return of someone from "Leapin' Lizards". Please read and review. As always, let me know if you see any spelling and grammer mistakes.

* * *

**Chapter 5**

Catherine pulled into the parking lot later that night , and sighed. Between returning to work this morning, and dealing with her recalcitrant daughter when she had gotten home, she hadn't gotten much sleep. When she had slept, she'd dreamed of Mike, and of a date they'd once been on. It was taking her longer to get over his loss then it had to get over Eddie. Grabbing her bag, she slammed the door and headed in.

She rounded the corner, heading for the locker room when she noticed that Grissom's office was still dark. Glancing at her watch, she noted that it was after eleven. She'd come in a little later then normal due to coming back in this morning. It wasn't like Grissom to be late though. Did he have the night off and she'd forgotten. Shaking her head, she continued on to the locker room, where she found Nick changing shirts. "Hey Nick, is Grissom off tonight?"

Nick pulled his shirt down and thought a second. "No, no I don't think he is, why?"

"His office is dark, and I don't remember seeing his car in the parking lot. It's just not like him to be late." She opened her locker and put her change of clothes for later inside. Checking her hair in the mirror before she turned back around. A noise came from the door and she turned to see Sara coming in. "Hey Sara, did you see Grissom's car outside?"

"No, but I wasn't really paying attention. I was running late due to a flat tire and was in a hurry to get in. Is he not in his office?" Sara opened her locker, effectively hiding her expression from the other two. She knew that Gris would be here in a few minutes, but she couldn't tell Catherine that. They'd gotten a bit of a late start. They'd been about to leave when Sara had noticed that you could plainly see a love bite on his neck. He'd decided to stop by the pharmacy to get some make up to help cover it. Smiling, she shook her head. She sure would like to have been there when he'd asked for help picking out his shade. Turning to Catherine with an amused grin she said, "I'm sure he'll be here soon."

Catherine nodded, knowing that Sara was right. Everyone had a right to be late every once in a while. "Maybe he had a hot date this morning. " She said with a laugh.

Still grinning, Sara agreed. "You're probably right, but knowing Grissom, the date probably had many legs and an exoskeleton.

Nick and Catherine laughed at this, but were startled when the man himself came into the locker room. "What's so funny?" He asked, wearing his own grin. It made Catherine take notice. He'd been grinning a lot lately. Now he was coming in late. Maybe that date idea wasn't so off after all.

Sara answered for the group. "We were just talking about how you were late, and must have had a hot date this morning."

"How'd you guess?" He asked still grinning.

The other three gaped at him. Nick and Catherine shared a shocked look, until Grissom continued. "My African Millipede got out this morning and I had to search the house for him." At this, the other three burst into laughter again. Nick closed his locker and headed for the door, giving Grissom an amused look before he left. Sara too left, still giggling. That left Catherine and Grissom. After calming down, she asked if they could go into his office to discuss the case, and he agreed to meet her there. After she exited, still smiling, he went to his locker and opened it, checking his neck in the mirror to make sure he'd covered the hickey with enough foundation, and that it looked natural. As far as he could tell, it looked fine, but he reminded himself to check it through the day. The stuff he bought was supposed to be long-lasting, but he didn't want to take any chances. He closed his locker and whistled as he went to meet Catherine.

* * *

Catherine wrapped up the info on the case so far with. "This morning we found out that one of the prints that was at the Bass's house belonged to our last burglary victims, the Jenkins. We talked to Mrs. Bass and found out they'd had a party on Saturday, and the Jenkins were there. Nick and I are going to get together tonight and do a timeline for each of the burglaries, and see if they have anything else in common." She cocked her eyebrow at him and waited. When he didn't say something, her patience ran out. "Well? What do you think?"

Grissom shrugged. "Sounds like a good idea, but you don't need me to tell you that." He swiveled in his chair and looked through some papers on his desk. "There's nothing really going on tonight, so why don't you get Sara to help you with that timeline. I might have to pull her off that if something comes in, but until then she should make the job go faster."

Catherine stared at him silently for a few moments. She finally realized he wasn't going to say anything else, so she got up to leave, shaking her head. She ran into Sara coming out of the breakroom and stopped her. "You're with me for now." She continued down the hall, Sara following behind.

"So, what are we doing?" Sara asked; glad to have something to do.

Catherine didn't answer her until they'd reached the layout room. "We…", she broke off as she lifted the phone and paged Nick, "are going to do a timeline."

* * *

Sara reached over for a file sitting in the middle of the layout table. "So, second to be burgled were the Winston's. Four days after the Parkers, who were burgled on the twenty-fifth of October."

"Yes. Greg worked that case with me, and it was the same as the first, we found nothing. No prints or anything on video… nothing."

"I think I remember that..." just then, Greg walked by. He stopped when Nick called out to him.

"Hey Greg, do you remember the Winston Burglary?" Nick nodded to the file Sara held.

"Um, wow, yeah I do. What about it?" Greg leaned his shoulder on the door jamb.

Catherine pivoted to see him. "We're working another burglary, and we just wondered if there was anything you remember that was odd, but didn't quite fit with a burglary. Maybe something to do with the Winston's themselves."

"Well, aside from the fact that their egos barely fit in the same room, nothing comes to mind." He shrugged.

Catherine sighed. "That's okay. I didn't really think there would be anything. I just wish I could pull something out of thin air on this one. Thank for trying anyway."

Greg straightened. "Sorry. See you guys around." He turned and continued down the hall.

"Anyway, the Winston's were the second couple, and that occurred on the twenty-ninth of October. The next two I worked solo. The Jackson's on the fifth of December and the Jenkins's on the eighteenth of February."

"Yeah," Nick chimed in, "and things taken have always been the same. The Parkers lost three painting, four vases, and two sculptures, the Winston's lost two paintings and five vases, for the Jackson's it was one painting, two vases and the only thing that stands out in all of this, a diamond and ruby necklace. And then of course the Jenkins, who lost the most so far, with ten paintings, five sculptures, and two vases."

"There also doesn't seem to be a particular pattern in when they hit the houses. The shortest period between burglaries was four days; the longest was seventy-three days." Sara flipped open another file. "One commonality is they all knew each other in some capacity, either in business, or socially."

Catherine rubbed her forehead. "I've gone over this so often I'd like to say I didn't miss anything, but maybe I'm too close. Why don't you two take a lunch break, then come back with fresh eyes, and see what you can figure out." She turned and walked out of the room.

Sara watched her leave, worried. Now she regretted wanting to get out of their breakfast. Looking at Nick, she shrugged and headed out the door.

On her way to the locker room to pick up her purse, she detoured by Grissom's office. Seeing that he wasn't there, she went on to the locker room. When she opened her locker, she found a post-it stuck to the mirror. It read, 'Ran home to check on Bruno. Meet me there for lunch if you're free around two-thirty.' She looked at her watch and realized she just had time to make it there. Gathering her stuff, she headed to her car.

* * *

Sara opened the door, and was almost immediately knocked over as Bruno came running and jumped up on her. She quickly hooked her arms under his legs and lifted him down. "Ooh, bad boy. You know you're not supposed to jump." She rubbed his head. "Where's daddy?" At these words he turned and ran toward the kitchen. Sara followed. She found Grissom mixing a salad and humming along with the radio. Bruno was sitting at his feet, thumping his tail.

Sara watched him for a moment and then spoke. "You know, your big baby there is still being a bad boy and jumping up on people." She said this with a smile.

"Oh, so he's my baby. Who was the one who saw him at the shelter on that news report and marched down there to adopt him? And, who taught him since he was a puppy to jump on her whenever she came home?" He looked at her hiding a grin.

"Well, it was just so cute when he would do it, but now he can knock me over, and it's something we really need to break him of." She moved into the room and stood next to him. He leaned over and kissed her. Grinning, she ran her hand down his back and asked, "So, how's your case going?"

Grissom sighed. "Good for us, not so good for the owner."

"Your thinking it was an inside job?" She asked, walking to the cabinet and taking out the plates.

"Only a select few of the most expensive items were taken, and they were taking from behind the counter. We found no unknown fingerprints there; they all belonged to the owner and the people who work for him. We're bringing him in later. I figure, either the owner is trying to pull some kind of insurance scam, or one of his employees had their hand in the cookie jar."

"Not good for him either way, but at least if it's an employee he has a chance to get his merchandise back." Sara poured two glasses of juice, while he served the salad.

"Well, we'll see. So, how has you night been so far? How's Catherine been doing with this case?" He started eating, and after a moment she followed.

"Night's gone fine so far. Catherine seems fine. At least she didn't start up on the personal questions again. I just hope we get a break on this case soon. Burglary is one thing, but murder is an escalation I don't like." He nodded and they ate in a companionable silence for a few seconds.

Sara looked up to find him watching her. "What?" She asked with a smile.

"You're just so… I just don't know how I got so lucky." He smiled, and blushed.

"Baby, you didn't get lucky. I did." She said, not breaking eye contact.

"I…" He was cut off by his phone ringing. Holding up a finger, he answered it.

She watched as he yeahed and nodded, finally saying he'd be there as soon as possible. "That was Greg. The jewelry store owner is there now, demanding to know what we've found out. I've got to get back." He got up and walked around the table to where she sat. Leaning down, he kissed her. Pulling back, he whispered, "We'll pick this up later." Kissing her once more, he straightened and walked toward the door.

She got up and walked to the kitchen door. She leaned against it, and watched as he gathered his keys from the hall table. She smiled and called, "I'll walk Bruno before I leave. See you later."

He turned and saluted. "You most certainly will."

She watched as he left, then turned and whistled for Bruno. "C'mon baby, let's go for a little walk, Mama has some excess energy to burn off."

**TBC…**


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer:** CBS owns it, not me. Except for the bits I make up, those are mine, but you can have them for a price. 

**A/n:** Sorry this is late guys, the finale has me frazzled. Don't worry, no matter what happens, I will finish this story. Please review, I like to know what you think. If you need a pick me up, check out my videos on youtube. Same name as here. Oh, and remember, see mistakes, let me know.

* * *

Catherine pushed a tomato around the remains of her salad. She'd sat at her desk going over each file until her eyes were blurry. On a hunch, she'd asked Mandy to run prints from each crimescene against each other, hoping to find a connection. The chances were small, and it would take Mandy awhile, but the results could be worth it. She looked up when a knock sounded at her door. Nick stood there smiling. "What's with the smile?" She sat up straighter.

"Mandy started running those prints, and guess what?" He walked over to sit in the chair in front of her desk. "Right off, she got a match. She found a print from Wendy Parker at the Jackson crimescene." He watched as the meaning dawned on her. "So, she checked further. Turns out that each of the victims left their prints at each of the other victims houses. So you know what I think?"

"The same thing as me? We need to get everyone back in here to talk to them, together." She stood up, her salad forgotten.

* * *

"Mr. and Mrs. Jenkins, we found your prints at the each of the other victim's residences. Can you explain that?" Catherine stood against the wall, watching as all the couples looked at each other.

"Well, we have been to all their homes at one time or another. We run in the same social circles, and we attend all the same parties." Down the line, they all told the same story.

Catherine gave a tight smile, and excused herself. In the hall, she and Nick conferred. "There's no way to disprove any of their stories. There may be something in the fact that they each had a party the weekend before the robbery at their house." She looked through the window at them. "Nick…" she was interrupted by the buzzing of her cell. Seeing that it was Doc. she continued, "Go in there and question them about who had access to their homes the weekend of the parties. Maybe we'll find some sort or connection. I'm going to see what Doc has for us." He nodded and headed in, while she continued down the hall.

* * *

"Tell me you have something for me Doc." Catherine said as she hurried into the morgue.

"I have what I have Catherine." Doc picked up a clipboard. "The male died of a gun shot to the heart, though the shot to the thigh nicked the femoral artery, which had he not received help, would have killed him anyway."

"So, someone didn't just want him out of the way, they wanted him gone." Catherine looked at the body. "Anything else?"

"Well, he had a couple of ulcers, but that's not odd to find in a lawyer, otherwise, he was perfectly healthy." He flipped the page on the clipboard. "Now, at first it looked like the female vic died of blunt force trauma to the head, but look a little further and you'll find that though the blow would have been hard enough to kill her, it was done after she died. No other physical findings, I sent her blood to tox. For now, I can only say her COD was heart failure. You'll have to wait for Henry to know why."

"Thanks Doc." Catherine smiled and headed for the door. "I'll get back to you after I get the tox report"

* * *

"I just can't believe he gave it up that easily." Greg crowed as he nuked his microwave pizza. "I mean, I figured I had him, but I thought he'd at least put up a little fight.

Sara smiled as she watched him hop around the breakroom. The jewelry store owner had admitted to robbing his own store in order to cash in on the insurance. Seems he'd fallen into the trap that every Las Vegas resident had to watch out for. He'd started gambling occasionally, and before he knew it, he amassed quite a debt. "You had him dead to rights Greg. What else could he do?" She sipped at her tea, feeling extremely happy. Looking up, she saw Grissom standing in the doorway. If it was possible, her grin got bigger.

"Yeah, well I suppose that's true, I just have to wonder at how easy it was." Greg opened the refrigerator, having not noticed Grissom yet. "And Grissom let me do all the questioning; he wasn't even in the room." He turned around and caught sight of Grissom leaning against the door jamb. Looking chagrined, he corrected himself. "Well, he wasn't in the room for all of it. He did come in towards the end and was there when it all wrapped up."

Grissom straightened and walked into the room. "You had the guy on the ropes before I came in. My presence was strictly supportive."

Sara grinned as she watched Greg blush. "Well, we had all the evidence. We really didn't need his confession." Turning, he took his pizza out of the microwave. "I'm just glad to have it all done but the paperwork." Sitting at the table, he used a plastic knife to cut his pizza. "Oh, Sara, I forgot to tell you that my cousin finally made it back to town. He's looking forward to meeting you."

"When did he leave town?" Sara asked, confused.

"You remember, he had to go back home because my uncle had that car accident and needed his help at his car dealership." Greg took a bite of his pizza.

"Oh-oh yeah. So, he's back. I…" She couldn't think of what to say.

Grissom took pity on her, and delivered the message he come to give her. "Sara, I know it's late, but we just got a 418 call out at Golden Hills."

Grateful, but confused, Sara turned to him. "A lost person? Why are we getting a call for that?" Sara asked.

"It seems that the woman who's lost is the Mayor's wife's aunt. She's 95, but she has no history of dementia, or Alzheimer's. As the mayor is rather close to his wife's family, he thinks she might have been taken as a way to get to him." He watched as she mulled this over.

"Okay. Do I get company?" She asked with a mischievous grin.

"I think that, uh, it being so late and all, things might go faster if two of us go, and I am caught up on my paperwork. I'll meet you at the car. I just have to stop by my office for a second." She nodded, got up, rinsed her tea cup out and left the room.

Grissom turned to leave too, but Greg interrupted him. "You know Grissom, I'd be glad to go with her if you want to stay here."

Grissom smiled. "That's okay Greg. It won't hurt for me to be hands on for this. Besides, you have that paperwork to get to." Whistling, he left the room.

**TBC…**


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer:** I do not own CSI, or any of it's characters. If I did, I would make sure Jorja got whatever she wanted. All other characters and the story are mine. 

**A/n:** Sorry this is late. My concentration was completly shot last week, waiting for the finale. Anyway, here it is, please review. As usual, let me know if you see any mistakes.

**Chapter 7 **

**

* * *

**Nick rubbed his eyes, and closed the last file folder. Looking up, he watched as Catherine walked down the hall towards her office. He had commandeered her desk in order to go through the files. He leaned back in the chair as he waited for her to enter the office. 

Catherine came to a stop in the doorway, and studied Nick's relaxed pose. "Glad to see you're making yourself comfortable there, Nicky." She walked in and skirted the desk. "Now how about you remove your person from my personal chair, which is calibrated to my very own posture, and take your rightful seat in that uncomfortable monstrosity on the other side of the desk."

Nick stood up with a grin. "Yes ma'am." Circling the desk, he eased down into the chair. "Do ya want to know what I found out?"

"Do tell." Catherine settled herself into her own chair.

"Each of the victims used the same catering firm for their parties." He said with a smile, and a nod.

"Well, that is interesting. I found out something myself." She leaned back in the chair and waited.

"And that would be?" Nick prompted.

"That, though Mr. Bass did indeed die of a gunshot wound to the heart, our Miss. Lawrence did not die from the blow to the head. That was delivered post-mortem." She said with a smug grin.

"So, what did she die of?" Nick watched as the smugness left her face, and she deflated like a parade balloon after Thanksgiving.

"We don't know yet. We're waiting on tox." Shrugging, she tapped the folders. "But let's get this caterer in here. At least we have some direction to take this.

* * *

Sara pushed her sunglasses to the top of her head as she and Grissom walked into the retirement home. She remembered when she was a kid, before things had gotten bad; she'd gone with her mom to visit her grandmother at a nursing home. The place had had such a depressing air about it that she'd wanted to leave as soon as they'd walked though the door. She remembered the long sterile hallway that led to her grandmother's room, and the smell of disinfectant, and what she had termed then, an old person smell. Golden Hills was nothing like that place. On entering one would think they'd walked into an upscale hotel. A deep rich colored wine colored carpet covered the whole floor, and the wallpaper was a deep cream and gold. The front door opened onto a large room, with several groupings of couches and chairs echoing the colors of the floor and walls, with harvest golds, and sage greens mixed in. The side tables, and coffee tables were a satiny cherry, and the air was scented with the delicate aroma of bouquets of roses placed throughout the room. Against the wall across from the door was the information desk. "Wow, private sure is the way to go." She murmured as they crossed the room. 

"I don't know, I don't think it's the richly appointed rooms that matter. A caring staff would be the first thing I'd look for. Of course, I can't imagine ever living anywhere but in my own home, but I'm not naïve enough to think it could never happen." Grissom studied the room as he said this.

Sara smiled. "I can just imagine…" she was cut off by a very formidable looking woman who'd came marching over to stand in front of them, impeding their progress.

"Are you two here to help find Gladys?" She asked as he stood there, her large bosom heaving. Her steal grey hair was teased into a do that would do Peggy Bundy proud.

"Uh, we're here to see if we can find a clue as to where she might have gone. At this point we have no confirmation that she's lost." Grissom said with his usual aplomb.

"Never said she was lost, did I?" The woman propped her hands on her ample hips. "But she didn't tell me where she was going and that's not like her."

Sara stepped in. "As soon as we know something, we'll let you know. But, maybe you could help us."

The woman stared at them for a moment, then smiled. "Why of course. I'm her best friend, who else would be better to help you?"

"That would be a great help, Mrs.…?"

"Connors. Shirley Connors." She took them each by an arm and led them to a couch. "Now, what would you like to know?"

* * *

"Mr. Gilmore, you catered the party given by Joe and Wendy Parker on Saturday, October 22, 2006, is that correct?" Catherine asked, looking across the table at the caterer. 

"That's correct. We were contracted for that party on the 4th of September. We usually have to be scheduled further in advance, but the Parkers were there when we first started, so when they call, we make room for them." He answered.

Catherine studied him. He was short in stature, 5'3" at the most. His blond hair was cut close to his head, but it was his eyes that stood out most. They were a clear dove grey and never flickered as he answered her questions. She asked him about each of the other victims, and he confirmed that he'd been hired by each one.

"I'm not sure what you expect to find out from me. My employees are honest hard working people. Before I hire anyone, they go through drug and background tests. I trust them completely. I've worked hard to build up my business, and the Parkers were a great help to me. They gave me a chance when I was new to this town, and recommended me to their friends." He leaned forward, fixing her with an intent stare. "I would never do anything to jeopardize all the hard work I've done. My reputation is everything."

Catherine sighed. He could be putting on quite an act, but she didn't get that feeling. "Mr. Gilmore, we're not saying you were involved, but we have to check every avenue of commonality." She leaned back and thought for a minute. She looked over at Nick, who'd sat back and let her take the lead. Looking back to Mr. Gilmore she asked, "Did you happen to notice anything out of place during the parties? Someone who was paying too much attention to the artwork, or in ways to get in and out of the house?"

"I don't have much time to notice anything during a party. I'm usually in the kitchen supervising the food." He stopped and thought for a minute. Shaking his head, he said. "I'm sorry, there's just nothing that pops out at me as seeming out of place. I don't socialize with the clients. I arrive, set things up, confer with the client on when they want things served, and I don't usually see them again until the end of the party."

Catherine stood up and pulled out a card. "Thanks for coming in. We'd like to talk to your employees, see if they might have noticed anything." He stood up, nodding, and took the card. "If you remember anything, please give us a call."

She watched as he left and turned to Nick. "So, what do you think?"

"He seems to be telling the truth, but if there's one thing I've learned on this job, it's never to trust anyone."

"Ah, c'mon Nicky. It's important to trust people. And your gut feeling." She walked around the table, and headed for the door. Looking at her watch, she offered. "Come on, I'll take you to breakfast. I know of a really good place. Trust me." She said, smiling.

**TBC...**


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: **I do not own CSI, or any of its characters. All others characters and the story are mine. 

**A/n:** First of all, thanks to everyone who has reviewed, and a special thanks to Ren Lissa and Odeepblue, and Tonic for their continiued reviews. I truely enjoy hearing what you guys think. I hope everyone has a happy Memorial Day.

**Chapter 8**

* * *

Sara entered Gladys's bedroom and looked around. Everything appeared to be in place. The bed, with its mauve and cream quilt was neatly made, and the dresser was clean, except for a perfume bottle, and a lacquered jewelry box. Opening the box, Sara found that it was filled with jewelry, and though she was no expert, everything looked genuine. Diamond bracelets, jeweled necklaces, and rings lay arranged neatly in the box. Closing the box, Sara turned to survey the rest of the room. Noticing something sticking out from under the bed, she bent down to find out what it was. 

Grissom walked quietly into the room, having finally convinced Ms. Connors that he'd keep her apprised of what they found. At first he didn't see Sara, who Ms. Connors had let escape her clutches early. Finally he found her bending down on the far side of the bed. Smiling, he watched as she wiggled to get a better grasp of something under the bed. She grunted a little, and finally pulled hard and fell backwards, a set of black fur lined manacles in her hand. Looking up, she blew away the hair that had fallen over her eyes. "Either Gladys has a few more secrets than we thought, or someone else has been using her bed while she's away." Standing up, she threw the manacles on the bed. "I guess we should fingerprint anyway. What'd you find out from Ms. Connors?"

Grissom walked over to the armoire, and opened it. She said that Gladys had been seeing a man, but she didn't know who it was. Looking through the clothes, he found that most of them were modest pant suits, and the kind of dresses you'd expect a woman of ninety five to wear. However, towards the end of the wardrobe he found an odd assortment of clothes. Leather whips, studded collars, and garments of which skimpy would be a generous description. But it might behoove us to find out more about him.

Sara reached for her kit. Taking out the UV light and tinted glasses, she pulled back the quilt and top sheet on the bed. Putting on the glasses she motioned for Grissom to turn off the light. Once that was done, she ran the light over the bed. Several stains fluoresced. Taking off her glasses, she looked up at Grissom, who turned the light back on. "I hope I'm this active when I'm in my nineties."

Smirking, Grissom turned to the door mumbling, "That's a lot to ask of a one hundred and ten year old."

"What was that?" Sara asked, coming up beside him.

"I'm going to get my kit. Why don't you go ahead and start in here." Sara watched him as he left the room, shrugged and glanced at her watch. It was already half past ten. Sighing, she went to her kit to start work.

* * *

Catherine opened the door to the lab and started down the hall. She was halfway to the locker room when Henry caught her attention from the tox lab. Changing direction, she joined him. "Yes?" she asked, hitching her bag higher on her shoulder. 

"I got the results back on Samantha Lawrence." He pulled a paper from a folder.

"And?" Catherine prompted.

"Negative. She didn't have anything in her system. I even tested her urine, and still nothing. Whatever caused this woman to die, it wasn't pharmaceutical, whether legal or... illegal." He handed her the paper.

Scanning it, she absently replied. "Thanks Henry." Without looking up, she turned and started back down the hall. Dropping her bag off at her locker, she went to her office and picked up the phone. " Doc, tox came back negative. I need you to go over that body with a fine tooth comb. We missed something." She hung up without waiting for an answer. Heading back out the door, she headed toward the break room. Nick was sitting there taking to Greg. "Nick, we're going back to the scene. She was hit in the head. It might not be what killed her, but whatever she was hit with might still be there. Meet me at the car in ten." Turning she walked back out and headed toward Grissom's office. Finding it dark and empty, she sighed and headed to her office to pick up her kit.

Grissom walked into the lab and went straight to his office. Turning on the light, he walked over to the miniature cases. It had become a habit, first thing every day he'd study them, looking for something he'd missed. Hoping something previously unseen would pop out at him. Again, nothing new came to him, sighing he walked over to his desk and started sorting though the mail waiting there. He looked up when a knock sounded at his door. Sara stood there, smiling. His heart lifted at just the sight of her. She straightened and walked over to his desk. Turning to look through the door, she watched as first Hodges walked past, glancing in to wave, then Archie and Greg walked by talking about the latest game they were into. Turning back, she shook her head. "Don't you ever wish we worked somewhere with offices without windows, and co-workers that weren't so observant?"

He looked at her over the top of his glasses. "I'm not so sure about their observation skills." He glanced behind her though the door. "After all, it's been almost two years now, and they haven't even begun to figure things out."

"Ah, but we're not to shabby ourselves. Plus, we have familiarity on our sides. We often fail to notice things about the ones closest to us, whereas we can detect the most minute things about strangers." She sat down in the chair facing his desk. Clearing her throat she said , "Speaking of, I don't think Mrs. Connors had any idea what Gladys was up to."

"How do we know that? I think it might be worth questioning her further. In the mean time, we should go check with Mandy, see if she got anything off those prints."

Sara nodded and they both exited his office, and headed towards the print lab. "Um, there is one thing I found kind of odd. With all the sexual aids we found, there wasn't one single tube of lube. And, I don't know, but you'd think that would be a necessary item for a ninety-five year old woman."

"Maybe she took it with her. After all, we have no proof that she was taken by someone, just the Mayor's belief that that's what happened. And as we have ample proof of; sometimes, we don't know those closest to us as well as we might think." They smiled and nodded at a passing Wendy.

* * *

"So, we're looking for anything that could have been used to cause the gash on Ms. Lawrence's head. Or, something we missed on our first sweep of the scene. What makes you think the killer didn't take it with them?" He reached out to open the door, ever the gentleman. 

"It's very possible they did, but we have to check. These people are intent on leaving no trace that they've been at a crime scene, so I'm hoping that they just tried to clean up the place, and leave everything but what they came for." Walking through the short entry hall, they stopped when they heard noises coming from the library. Looking at each other, they pulled their guns, and Catherine lifted her walkie, and whispered. "Control, this is CSI Willows, we have a possible suspect on location at 608 Villa Rica Circle." Hooking the walkie back on her belt, she lifted her gun. Nodding to Nick, he lifted his gun, and she pushed open the door.

**TBC...**


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer:** I don't own CSI or any of its characters. If I did, I certainly wouldn't be dumb enough to threaten to kill off a main character! All othercharacters and the story are mine.

**A/n:** Thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed. I hope everyone enjoys this chapter.

* * *

**Chapter 9**

Nick entered the room first, with Catherine right behind him. They trained their guns on the woman by the desk with her back to them. She was too intent on looking through some papers to notice their entrance. Catherine edged to the desk, and said in a quiet, but deadly voice, "Freeze."

The woman twirled around, papers flying everywhere. She gasped and her hand flew to her chest, her gaze focused on the two guns pointed ather. "Mrs. Bass? What are you doing here?" She heard the blond CSI ask. The fear slowly subsiding, she relaxed a bit.

Clearing her throat, she let her eyes drift from the woman, to the man standing next to her. "I-I had to pick up some papers that I forgot. I thought it would be okay. I figured you guys would be done by now." She could still feel her heart racing, but it didn't feel like it was going to jump out of her chest like it did before.

Nick shifted, putting away his gun. "Ma'am, we told you we would let you know when you could come back."

He looked to Catherine who had holstered her gun as well, and was lifting her walkie again. "This is CSI Willows, 608 Villa Rica is a code four,repeat 608 Villa Rica is a code four." A tinny voice could be heard saying ten-four, as Catherine lowered the walkie. "Mrs. Bass, we're sorry that this has caused you so much trouble on top of losing your husband, but you really can't be in the crimescene. CSI Stokes will escort you to the door, and you can give him a list of the things you need. We'll get them to you as soon as we've gone over the place, and we'll let you know when we release the scene."

Nick nodded and took Mrs. Bass by the arm. Rose's eyes strayed to the papers on the floor, before she allowed him to lead her out. Catherine tuned and looked around. Bending down to pick up the papers, she noticed that they were receipts for the objects that had been stolen.

At the front door, Rose quickly jotted down a few things and handed the list to Mr. Stokes. He smiled at her reassuringly. "Don't worry ma'am, we'll be done as quickly as possible." She liked his smile, but knew that though it made him look harmless, those sorts of smiles sometimes hid the cruelest natures. Hesitantly glancing over his shoulder, she nodded and quickly left, heading for her car which was parked on the other side of the garage, the reason the CSI's hadn't seen it. Nick watched her as she left; sure that she'd been hiding something.

Nick walked back into the library as Catherine was opening her kit. He noticed that she'd already picked up the papers that had scattered on the floor. "So, what was she after in those papers?"

Catherine looked up at him, and shrugged. "They were receipts for the stolen items; maybe she wanted them for the insurance."

Nick looked at the list that Mrs. Bass had given him. "She didn't put them on the list. I wonder why?"

Catherine shook her head. "Maybe she just forgot. What did she ask for?"

Nick looked down at the list. "All she listed are some clothes, and jewelry, which makes no sense, since we let her pack most of those things before we took her to the hotel."

Catherine raised an eyebrow. "Curious." Turning to look around, she said. "We'll worry about that later; let's get to work on seeing if we can find the object that caused our vic's injury."

* * *

Grissom climbed into the passenger seat, as Sara started the car. The prints they'd found in Gladys's bedroom had come back to a Harold Mann. He was in the system for taking a pack of condoms from a drug store. Not charges had been brought, but his prints had been loaded into AFIS. "So, what do you think the chances are that we'll find Gladys at Mr. Mann's house, and she won't be there against her will?" Sara asked as she put the car into reverse.

As ever, Grissom was a cautious man. "Going by the evidence so far, I'd say the chances are 70/30."

Sara smiled. "You honestly think there's a thirty percent chance that he's holding her against her will?"

"We have no proof that she went with him willingly. The DNA on the semen stains on her mattress won't come in for a day or two, so we're not even sure that it was him that was in her bed. All we know is that Gladys appears to be into bondage, and she's most likely sexually active. But, it might not have even been her that was in her bed with a man. This guy could have been stalking her, befriended her, and got her to go with him, where he is now holding her against her will." Grissom looked at her, enjoying the play of the street lights over her skin.

"Well, if you believe that's a possibility, how 'bout a little wager?" Sara glanced his way.

"What kind of wager?" He asked, looking up as she slowed to a stop at a traffic light.

"Well, I say she's with him, but willingly, and when we get there, we'll find them sitting, sedately watching some late night television. If she is, and I win, then on your next day off, you have to do everything, and anything I ask of you." She looked at him with a grin, accelerating when the light turned green. "If it's like you say, and she's there against her will, then on my next day off I have to do anything, and everything you ask of me."

Grissom thought this over, and not really seeing a losing side for him, decided to accept. "You're on." He reached out a hand to shake. Keeping an eye on the road, she reached over and shook it.

* * *

Nick reached up to smother a yawn, glancing at his watch. They'd been at this for two hours, and had yet to find anything. He had never been so grateful for his small one bedroom apartment. In fact, searching this behemoth of a house had divested him of any thoughts of finding a larger place. He and Catherine had split up, each taking a floor with plans to meet on the third floor if they found nothing. So far, he'd found a variety of stains, mostly semen, which he figured shouldn't surprise him giving what he encountered daily on this job , but he'd thought that by searching the main floor he'd run into fewer of those. If he wasn't mistaken, from the amount of semen spread around, he figured cocktails weren't the only things being passed around at those parties they'd been told about. He'd dutifully taken swabs from each stain and was now heading into the last room on this floor. Standing in the doorway he surveyed the layout. Basically an enclosed porch, it was what would be called a garden room back home, but was probably called something like a Solarium in this million dollar home. It was filled with potted plants, and in the center had an arrangment of wicker furniture. In the corner was a wet bar, because it wouldn't do to have to walk the few steps to the kitchen for your drink. Sighing, he headed in, luminal at the ready.

Catherine had just finished searching the last room on the second floor when she heard Nick shout. Hurrying down, she found him coming through a door into the kitchen. In is hand was a small stone statue. "What'd you find?"

He nodded towards an assortment of potted plants clumped around a small water feature. "This was sitting in the middle of those plants. The base tested positive for blood. It's possible it's the victims, or it could belong to someone else. Won't know for sure until we get it tested."

Catherine looked around with her hands on her hips. "Well, I've checked every room on the second floor, and found nothing. Let's check the third floor just to be sure, but I think we've found our weapon." Nick nodded, bagging the statue.

* * *

Sara pulled into the driveway of the modest ranch style house on a quiet street, checking the address against the one they had for Harold Mann.

Nodding at the match, she and Grissom climbed out of the SUV. Walking up the front walk, they noticed what a quiet neighborhood it was. Before long, they reached the door. Sara lifted her hand to knock, and when her hand connected with the door, it swung open a couple of inches.

Grissom turned to her with a raised eyebrow. Shrugging, Sara reached forward and pushed it open. Leaning forward she called, "Mr. Mann? Mr. Mann, are you home?"

Grissom reached out and took her arm, pulling her back. "Shh, do you hear that?"

Sara stood still and listened intently. She could hear a faint grunting coming from somewhere in the back of the house. Lifting up her gun, she edged toward the door. Grissom grabbed her arm. "What are you doing?" He hissed.

"Someone could be in trouble! We have to check it out." She hissed back, pulling her arm away.

"Fine, we'll check it out, but I'm calling for backup first." He took out his cell, and called Brass, barely getting out the words before Sara slipped into the house. Sighing, he finished the call, and followed her.

They inched toward the back of the house, the sounds growing louder as they went. Moaning, and what sounded like a whip hitting flesh.

Speeding up, Sara hurried toward the room the noises were coming from. Taking a deep breath, she pushed the door open. She and Grissom stepped in and froze.

Grissom heard her soft gasp, and was hard put to keep his mouth from dropping open at the sight of Gladys Timms standing behind a man who must have been Harold Mann. He was handcuffed between two metal posts, and wearing a purple lace teddy that was doing nothing for his seventy year old body. Directly in front of him was a big screen television, on which a man was standing in a similar position as Harold, and being whipped by the woman standing behind him. At their entrance, Gladys and Harold had also froze, staring wide-eyed at the two CSI's. Sara was the first to speak. "Well, they are watching television."

**TBC….**


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer:** Nope, still don't own them. The story and other characters are mine though.

**A/n:** Sorry this chapter is so short guys, but I was sick, and wanted to make sure I got something out. I promise that next chapter will be longer. Thanks to everyone who has reviewed, it means alot to me, and I promise to list everyone on the next chapter. Enjoy.:)

* * *

**Chapter 10**

Catherine lifted the statue and turned it around in her gloved hand. It was made of marble, but it had been wiped clean of prints. The only evidence that they'd get from it was the trace of blood on its base, which had already been swabbed and sent to DNA. Wendy was backed up though, and it could be a while before they got any results. She'd only just finished testing the other samples, and they were still waiting on the results. Putting the statue down, she turned to the open file next to her on the layout table. Rubbing at the base of her neck, she briefly closed her eyes. They popped open when she felt someone's hands start kneading her neck.

"Relax." Nick said, focusing on a particularly hard knot. "Your muscles are so tight, I'm surprised you can even turn your head."

She allowed her head to roll forward as he continued to knead. Her mind emptied of all thoughts. It had been a while since she's felt someone's hands on her that didn't want something more. It was nice. One by one, the knots melted under his touch. Her mind began to drift, and she imagined another set of hands there instead. Ones that were a bit harder, callused from picking the strings of his guitar, but gentle enough to play a soft sonata on a piano. She could almost smell the spiciness of his natural scent.

"Well, what do we have here? I go away for a couple of days, and the place turns into a massage parlor." Warrick said from his position at the door. Amused when he saw Catherine jump like she'd been shot with a BB gun.

"W-Warrick! What are you doing here? Weren't you supposed to be gone a few more days?" Catherine babbled, more rattled than she wanted to admit.

For Nick's part, he just grinned. "Nah man, just lending my skills to the cause. Tough case."

"Oh? What's it about?" He asked, slipping onto a stool, and coolly avoided explaining his early return.

Between them they filled him in. Catherine finished. "So, we're stuck for now."

They turned when Doc came through the door. "Thought you'd want my results right away. I went back over the body, with an extra fine tooth comb, and finally found something." He had their full attention. He on the other hand was distracted by the statue sitting on the light table. "Ah, Bacchus, the God of wine. You know, back in college…"

Catherine cut him off. "Doc, the body?"

Clearing his throat, he nodded. "Right, I found a small injection mark at the base of her neck."

"So she was injected with something, but what? Tox came back clear." Cath leaned forward, concentrating.

"That's because she wasn't injected with anything." Doc explained, unhelpfully.

"What do you mean? You said there was an injection mark." Nick spoke up.

"And there was, but what was injected into her was nothing. Nothing but air that is."

"You mean someone injected her with air?" Nick asked.

"As far as I can tell, cause of death was an air embolis. An air bubble can enter an artery accidentally after surgery, but this one was introduced purposefully." He handed Catherine the file.

"Thanks Doc." He nodded and turned to leave. Turning back, he took one more look at the statue, and smiled. "Good times." He murmured, and left.

* * *

Grissom and Sara walked through the doors of the lab just as a torrent of rain started to fall. Stopping to look back, Sara sighed. "You know, for this being a desert city, we seem to get some awful storms."

Grissom could think of at least half a dozen explanations for their weather conditions, but when he looked at her he said the only thing he wanted to. "This weather means only one thing to me, staying home with you and… cuddling."

She smiled as they turned to walk down the hall. "You mean how Gladys and Harold are probably… cuddling?"

"Well, I don't think we need all the accoutrements, and I certainly don't need the outfits, but I have no difficulty with the general concept." He smiled at her.

Sara laughed, "Speaking of Gladys and Harold, it would seem that you lost our bet."

"Yes, it would seem that, that is the case. When do you expect me to commence payment?"

"Well, it's already end of shift, so I say you can get started now." Sara gave him a smile as she headed for the locker room.

Looking around to make sure that no one was around, he called. "What's my first order?"

Walking back she whispered, "You can call the Mayor and tell him that his dear Aunt Gladys is okay, she's just staying with a friend, and has been tied up. While you're doing that, I'm going to go home and slip into something more comfortable. I encourage you to hurry, so that you can do the same." Smiling she left him standing in the hall, looking a bit dazed.

**TBC...**


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer:** I don't own CSI, or any of its characters. I do own the story and all other characters.

**A/n:** I hope everyone likes the GSR in this chapter, especially you Aussie. LOL! Let me know if you see any typos. Thanks in advance.

**_Thanks to: RenLissa, AnaRita69, SapphireMind, Mystical Panther, odeepblue, angsty-otaku, gsrshipper, SoS5-16, tonic2255, Violet Eyez, ProctorFoxFan, aussieforgood, lamcsi, and Emma Face, for reviewing. _**

****

* * *

**Chapter 11**

Sara heard the door open from her position on the floor by Bruno. Stroking his head, she looked up as Grissom came through to the living room. "So, how'd it go?" She asked, getting to her feet.

"Fine, the Mayor said that she'd already called and apologized for not calling him before." He watched her from where he stood in the doorway, swallowing when she shed her robe as she walked toward him. He took in every detail of what she was wearing. "So… um, you're comfortable in that? I thought we said we didn't need outfits."

Sara looked down at the one piece leather ensemble that she'd picked up on the way home. "Not really, but I thought you could help me with that. And, we don't NEED outfits, but no one said we couldn't use them." She took him by the hand began leading him towards the bedroom. "Now, you have a debt to pay, and I hope you're ready to pay in full."

Grissom smiled as he fallowed her. They'd just reached the door to the bedroom, when the heard the distant ring of her cell phone. She hesitated for a moment, but she was no good at ignoring a ringing phone. She smiled an apology at him as she hurried to the phone. He nodded, understanding since he was the same way. Leaning against the door jamb, he listened as she answered. At first the conversation was muted, but then she gave a loud gasp. "Now? Greg, No!" I can't possibly come tonight."

Grissom moved closer to where she was standing. "I know I said…" she started, but was cut off.

"Listen Sara, I know you just got off shift, but I checked the schedule and you're off tonight. My cousin is really interested in going out with you, but the morning is the only time he can in the next week. C'mon. For me?" He wheedled as only someone who was a close friend could.

Sara sighed, and looked back at Grissom. He smiled and nodded, walking over to wrap his arms around her. She leaned into him, and nearly forgot she was on the phone, until Greg called her name. Giving in, she said. "Sure Greg. Where should I meet you?"

"Thanks Sara, you'll never regret this." He gave her an address of a restaurant away from the Strip, "So it'll be nice and quiet", he assured her. Hanging up, she turned to Grissom.

"Rain check?" She asked as she cuddled up to him.

"You'd better believe it. Don't let it be said that Gilbert Grissom ever welshed on a bet." Smiling she leaned up and kissed him, sighing when he turned her toward the bedroom and gave her bum a little pat to urge her on. "Go on, get ready. We don't need Greg going to your apartment to get you, only to find you don't live there anymore." Sighing, she headed toward the bedroom to change, and Grissom sank down slowly onto the couch, and patted the cushion next to him. Bruno jumped up next to him. "Well, it looks like it's just you and me boy. You want to watch some television?"

* * *

"So, the blood from the mantle, and the chair belonged to Samantha Lawrence." Wendy tucked a pencil behind her ear, and cleared her throat. "Now, I haven't gotten to the boat load of semen samples you guys brought me, it may take awhile. I mean… really, you brought me nearly a hundred samples."

Nick shrugged. "We bring you what we have. Hey, don't complain, at least you didn't have to collect them."

Wendy smiled. "Yeah, how long did that take? It can take thirty minutes just to get the sample to the point of processing. Multiply that by…" she checked her file. "Ninety-six samples and you're talking some major over time."

"Yeah, well talk to me when you have to pick your way through scattered body parts, and you're not sure how many victims there are." Nick said, with cheeky grin.

Wendy stared at him, blinking. "All right, you win this one Stokes." Gathering up her files, she turned to leave. "I'm off to get started. If no one sees me by quitting time, come pull me out of the lab and point me towards home."

Catherine smiled as she watched this scene. "I think everyone's jobs have their minuses, but they're usually out-weighed by the plusses." Slipping her glasses on, she picked up the file that Wendy had left. "Okay, back to work. So it would seem that at some point Samantha cut her finger near the mantle, possibly on something on the mantle. The drop was fairly fresh, so she had to have done it on the day of the murder. Do we have an address on her yet?"

"Nick looked down at his notepad. "Not yet, we're having trouble finding out where she came from. It's like she dropped off the earth three years ago, and dropped back on in the Bass's library."

Warrick popped his head in. "Hey guys, you seen Grissom?"

"No man, did you check his office?" Nick straightened, and shook his head.

"Yeah, it's dark." Warrick checked his watch. "He's not off tonight is he?"

"No, he's probably just running late." Catherine set down the file. 'Of course, he's been doing that a lot lately." She said, looking thoughtful.

Warrick shook his head. "So, how's the case going?"

Catherine sighed. "I don't know, every question answered leads to two new ones." She picked up the Bacchus statue.

"Oh yeah, I was wondering earlier what the statue from the Jackson's house had to do with this case." Warrick fully entered the room, and took a seat on a stool.

"The Jackson's? This is from the Bass's, and how would you know about anything from the Jackson's?" Catherine looked puzzled.

"Well, I worked it with you. Or, at least I did for a few hours before I got pulled for that homicide out in the desert. And that statue or one just like it was sitting on a bookcase. I remember thinking how it didn't seem to fit the room."

"Oh, I totally forgot that you started that case with me. Well, the Jackson's and Bass's are friends, maybe they both bought the same statue, or the Jackson's gave this one to the Bass's." Catherine looked at the statue thoughtfully.

Grissom poked his head in. "Has anyone seen Greg, I've been looking all over for him."

"I just saw him in the locker room; he's probably still there." Warrick answered.

Grissom looked to him and nodded. "Thanks. Hey, are you here?"

"Yeah, I was trying to find you to ask if you had anything I could do."

"As a matter of fact, I do. I have a 415A at 2480 Izabella Ave., the victim has been taken to Desert Palm. Brass is at the scene. I was going to take it myself, but if you want it, it will give me a chance to catch up on some paperwork." He handed him the slip, then turned and headed toward the locker room.

He opened the door, and found Greg sitting on the bench tying his shoes. Wishing he had another foot fungus experiment to conduct, he cleared his throat to get his attention. Greg looked up catching a glimpse of something almost sinister in his boss's eyes, but it was gone before he really even saw it, and Grissom gave him a smile. "Hey Greg, feel like working solo tonight?"

Surprised, Greg stood up. "Yeah, sure what is it?"

"It's actually pretty cool. You get to go out to the body farm. Seems someone has been… taking some of the bodies. Whoever it is might not know that the farm keeps track of the bodies." He handed him the slip and turned to leave. Turning back he said, "You might want to take some mentholated salve with you, in this heat it can be a bit… fetid."

Smiling at the look on Greg's face, he turned and walked to his office. Sitting down, he pulled a file toward him. He'd wondered how he'd get back at Greg for what he'd pulled without it seeming like a personal attack. After his meeting with Ecklie he hadn't been in the mood to see the young CSI, but when he'd seen the body farm on one of the slips, he'd known exactly how to lift his spirits. Of course, the other way to do that was to think about how he and Sara had made up for their interruption when she'd gotten back. Leaning back in his chair, he let his mind drift back.

He'd been watching a documentary on the History channel when his cell had rung. He'd had it set to go straight to voice mail, so by the time he'd gotten to it, and noticed that it was Sara, it was too late. Checking the message, he'd grimaced at her tone, before noticing the words. She'd positively growled, "Two words, veggie hater!" There was a pause, then a sigh, "I know you're probably sleeping, I just needed to hear your voice, even if it is recorded. I hope we have something ready to eat in the kitchen, because I'm going to be starving by the time I get home." Then she'd muttered, "Oh God, he's coming back.", and hung up.

By the time she got home he had an egg white omelet with cheese and mushrooms waiting. Over the meal she'd explained how Greg hadn't been there when she'd arrived, and then his cousin, James, who'd actually licked his lips when she'd walked in, had taken her to a steak restaurant. Trying to make the most of it, she'd ordered a garden salad. He'd teased her about not ordering a steak, and when she'd told him that she was a vegetarian, he'd looked horrified. Not that he'd brought her to a steak restaurant, but at the fact that she didn't eat meat, and Greg didn't fill him in on that. He'd excused himself to the "little boy's room", and she'd made her call to Grissom. When he'd gotten back, he just kept going on and on about how people were meant to eat meat and that was the animal's purpose. She'd finally had to excuse herself to the ladies room to get away for a few minutes. She'd tried to call Greg, but he wasn't answering. She'd gathered her courage and headed back to the table. She'd endured several more minutes of his meat litany, before he moved on to how he'd expect any woman of his to have dinner, including meat of course, to be waiting on the table when he got home. At this time, the waitress had served their food, and she'd frowned when she noticed that large strips of beef had been added to her salad. She tried to give it back to the waitress, claiming there'd been a mistake, but James stopped her, telling her that he'd "fixed" her order when she'd been in the ladies. Gritting her teeth, she'd sat down her napkin, stood up, picking up her purse as she did. She'd thanked him for the food, and turned and walked out.

At this point, she'd reached out her hand and taken his. "And here you were, with just what I needed."

He'd shrugged, "You sounded hungry on the phone." He'd said quietly.

"The food was nice… but it was you that I needed." She'd gotten up, come around the table, and taken his hand. "Now, let's go get what we both need." He'd ended up getting very little sleep. He'd barely been able to pay attention to Ecklie during their meeting, not that sleep would have necessarily helped that.

He looked up at a knock at his door. Catherine was already on her way in. "Hey, late start this morning?"

"Early actually. Meeting with Ecklie. What can I do for you?" He leaned forward and put on his glasses.

I was examining the Bacchus statue, and noticed what seemed to be a hairline fracture running the length of it. The statue is marble, and the force you'd have to use to crack it would be… great. It has a bronze base, and I noticed that when you push it, it opens to reveal a button. When you push the button, the statue opens, revealing a cavity. It was empty, but there was some kind of organic trace. I sent it to Hodges, but I wanted to let you know the case just might have gotten even more interesting.

**TBC….**


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer:** I don't own CSI or any of its characters.

**Thanks to:** RenLissa, AnaRita69, SapphireMind, Mystical Panther, odeepblue, angsty-otaku, gsrshipper, SoS5-16, tonic2255, Violet Eyez, ProctorFoxFan, aussieforgood, lamcsi, amisha.pineapple, and Emma Face, for reviewing.

* * *

**Chapter 12**

"Mrs. Bass, could you tell us where you got this statue?" Catherine laid down a picture of the statue in front of her.

Mrs. Bass picked it up and studied it. "My husband got this from Grant Jackson. Why? What does it have to do with anything?" She put the picture down and looked at Catherine inquisitively.

"Where is the statue normally kept?" Nick leaned forward.

"Um… on a pedestal, in the garden room." She answered, exhaling loudly. "Look, I don't see what this has to do with anything.

Nick stood up and leaned his hands on the table. "It has to do with the fact that this statue was used in the murder of Samantha Lawrence." Banging his hands on the table he straightened. "So, maybe you can see why we would want to know all we can about it."

She stared at them for a few long silent moments, finally blurting, "Look, I'm sorry." Sighing, she ran her fingers through her hair. "I-I've just been a bit on nerve lately." Picking up the picture, she studied it more closely. "Like I said, it's a statue that Jake got from Grant. Jake said that he'd won some kind of bet… I don't know what it was about, but they were always wagering on things, the outcome of a case, who would win at golf." She gave a little laugh, "Even on who could hold out longer from going to the bathroom, this after drinking two liters of water."

"And they wagered a statue?" Catherine looked incredulous. "We had it tested. It's marble, nothing precious about it. Why would they wager a worthless item?"

"I don't know why they wagered the statue. The wagers were always something simple. You know small things, a round at the club, a dinner, once Grant admired a humidor that Jake had gotten from Venice. He found it in this little second hand shop, and paid only ten dollars American for it." They just liked the competition aspect of it."

Catherine glanced at Nick. "And this statue was just another in a long line of small time wagers?"

"Yes. Is that all?" She picked up her jacket, preparing to stand.

"No. No that's not all." Nick watched as she dropped back down in the chair, sighing.

"What else?" She asked, her brow arched.

"We went over you house with pretty much a fine tooth comb, and we found something pretty interesting."

"And what was that?" She leaned forward and rested her chin on her palm.

"We found enough semen in your house to start a small sperm bank." Nick sat down and threw a few photos in front of her. "On the stairs, on the underside of the kitchen counter…" He raised an eyebrow at the next photo before throwing it down. "Under the handle of the refrigerator."

Catherine slid her hair behind her ear, and watched Mrs. Bass. "Mind telling us where all this…" She waved a hand, indicating the photos. "…came from?"

Rose stared at her lap, a million thoughts racing through her mind. It came down to just one thing. There was more at stake here than her personal feelings. A little humiliation now would help in the larger sense. Looking up, she took a deep breath. "Y-you know about the parties that we have. Well, we do more than just socialize at them."

"You mean they're sex parties." Catherine elaborated.

Rose stared at them, biting her lip. "Yes." Feeling the need to explain, she leaned forward intently. "When Jake and I first were married, we… we were at it all the time. After a couple of years, well things began to fall off. Well, one day Jake came to me and said that he'd lost a bet to Grant. I-I wasn't too interested; I knew they never bet anything big, so I barely looked up from the book I was reading. What he was saying didn't really penetrate until he said the wager had been for a night with me. I-I thought he was joking. Trying to get me to pay more attention. But-but he was serious. He explained it all to me, how they'd both had cases about embezzlement, and it had actually been his idea, that since the bet was big, the wager had to be something big, so he suggested that if he won, he'd have a night with Barbara, and if he lost, Grant could have a night with me. Well, I said no. I couldn't believe he would do that. Say his friend could sleep with me. Then it occurred to me that he'd been the one to come up with it, and I accused him of wanting to sleep with other women. He-he said that that would be something he was interested in. That he loved me, but that he liked a little variety. He said that he was willing to let me be with other men, as long a he approved of them." She shook her head, sniffing. "We fought for days over it. He said he couldn't welch on a bet, and I said that I wasn't something he could wager. Then one day, Grant came over. We talked. He was nice about it. Said he understood if I didn't want to do it. I asked if he'd let another man sleep with his wife. He told me about these parties they had. I don't know. Between everybody, I just ended up going along. So, we joined the party circuit. It was only once a month, so it wasn't too bad, and Jake was happy again. Always telling me how much he loved me. I- I got used to it."

Nick and Catherine shared a look. They'd worked cases that involved sex parties before, and in their opinion it wasn't the way to go. "Mrs. Bass, was Samantha Lawrence part of the party circuit?" Catherine questioned.

"No. No she wasn't." She said adamantly.

"Okay, I believe that's all we need for now. We'll be in touch if we have any further questions."

After she'd left, Catherine turned to Nick. "Looks like we need another conversation with Grant Jackson."

* * *

Warrick pulled up to the residence and found Sofia waiting for him. Getting out of the car, he headed over to her. "Hey, so what do we have?"

Sofia took out her notebook. "Joan Williams was shot in the leg. Neighbors heard a gunshot around midnight, and called 911. By the time the ambulance got here, she was unconscious. They've taken her to Desert Palm, and she's in surgery right now."

Warrick looked around, noting the neighbors standing around. "Any suspects?"

"No one for sure right now. She has a nephew, "she looked down a the notebook, "an Alan Williams. He wasn't here when we arrived, but neighbors said he was around earlier."

"Anything of interest?" Warrick turned towards his car to get his kit.

"Not much." She followed him to the car. "Just a gun."

"You're kidding. The shooter left the gun?" Warrick asked, aghast.

"We found a gun, in the same room as the victim. I'll leave it up to you to find out if it's the assault weapon."

Turning with his kit, he raised an eyebrow. "It'll be my pleasure."

* * *

Greg walked through the door and headed for the locker room. In one hand was an evidence bag, in the other, a bag of lemons. As he passed, people would turn their heads, covering their noses. As he turned the corner, he saw Sara standing with Grissom at the end of the hall. Walking up to them, he shoved the evidence bag at Grissom and snarled. "What have I ever done to you!?"

Catching the bag, Grissom shook his head. "What do you mean Greg?"

"What did I do to deserve the onus of spending the night in a park of fetid, rancid, rotting bodies?" Greg sniffed, wincing at the odor.

"I thought you'd enjoy it. Not only would it give you an opportunity to work alone, but you'd get to see the body farm. I remember Sara was ecstatic the first time she went out there." Grissom nodded in Sara's direction.

Greg looked from Sara to Grissom, noting they both had looks of barely concealed delight. Sighing in disgust, he shook his head, and turned and headed for the showers.

Sara called after him. "What? You didn't have fun? It wasn't a dream come true?" She said with a smirk. Greg ignored her, and kept going.

Sara looked around; noticing the door to the janitor's closet was open. Seeing no one around, she grabbed Grissom arm, and pulled him in. Wrapping her arms around him, she pressed her lips to his. His response was immediate. Gathering her close, he deepened the kiss, reveling in the feel of her. After several moments, she pulled back, looking into his eyes. "Thank you, that was worth coming in on my day off." She whispered, and would have said more, but the door began to open. Springing apart, she reached for a role of paper towels on a shelf. "This should be enough." She was saying as the door opened to show a woman in a ponytail. The woman jumped, and started muttering about being sorry. Pushing their way out, telling her not to worry, they headed down the hall, not noticing that they were being watched.

**TBC...**


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer:** CSI, and its characters belong to Anthony Zuiker, and a whole bunch of other people. All other characters and the story belong to Maisy.

**Thanks to: **RenLissa, AnaRita69, SapphireMind, Mystical Panther, odeepblue, angsty-otaku, gsrshipper, SoS5-16, tonic2255, Violet Eyez, ProctorFoxFan, aussieforgood, lamcsi, amisha.pineapple, and Emma Face, for reviewing.

* * *

**Chapter 13**

"Hey man, have you been able to get to my .22 yet?" Warrick asked as he walked in on Bobby looking through a microscope.

"Yeah, just checking it out now. As soon as you get me something to compare it to, we'll be in business." Bobby said, spinning around on his stool.

Warrick held up a bindle waving it back and forth. "Got it right here."

"Well hand it over and let's get this show on the road." He held out his hand, fingertips wiggling.

Warrick handed him the bindle, and Bobby took out the bullet, and carefully rinsed it in a bath of sterilized water. Once it was clean, he gently placed in the microscope. Looking through the lens, he studied the striae, comparing it side by side with the test bullet, he smiled as he looked up at Warrick. "This gun is your weapon. Now you just have to find out who fired it."

"I'm on my way to see Mandy now to…" Warrick stopped and waved his hand in front of his nose. "What-what in the world is that smell?" He coughed, trying to deflect his gag reflex.

Bobby, covering his own nose, pointed with his other hand towards the hallway. Warrick turned to see Greg stalk by. "Grissom sent him out to the body farm." He explained.

"What did Greg do to deserve that?" Warrick watched Greg until he turned the corner.

"No one knows. We just figured that with Grissom, he may have thought he was giving him a treat." Bobby laughed.

"Yeah, I don't know. I think Grissom knows that he is probably the only one who loves going out there. Well, Sara might like it too, but Grissom knows the rest of us aren't too keen on going out there. Especially after a day of over one hundred degree temps." They looked up as Greg stalked back by. "I guess I should just be grateful that it wasn't me." He mused, covering his nose.

* * *

"First let me say that I am not happy with being woken up at four in the morning by a phone call from the police. Especially as I have an early meeting with a client at seven." Grant Jackson fumed as he swung into a chair. "This had better be DAMN good." 

Catherine watched as he sat, noting his perfectly tailored suit, with not a wrinkle in it. His hair impeccably combed. If this was a man who had been awakened from a sound sleep only half an hour ago, she'd give up coffee for a month, but you got more bees with honey, so…" We're so sorry Mr. Jackson, but it couldn't be helped. As you know, we're not only investigating the thefts at your home, but the thefts at several of your friend's homes, and the theft and murders at the Bass's. In the course of the investigation, we came across something and it would seem that you're the person to go to for a few answers about it."

"I can't see what couldn't wait another two or three hours, but go on." He leaned back, and crossed his legs, making sure to keep his arms uncrossed.

Catherine once again opened a file and took out the picture of the statue. Placing it in front of Mr. Jackson, she asked. "Mrs. Bass tells us that Mr. Bass won this from you in a bet."

Jackson barely glanced at the picture. "Yes. What of it?"

"Maybe you could take a better look." Nick persisted.

"I don't need a better look. I would know that piece anywhere. What I don't know, is what that statue has to do with anything." He answered, his gaze steady on Catherine's.

"Well, this statue was used in the death of Samantha Lawrence, so we would like to know everything we can about it." Nick said, leaning forward.

Jackson didn't spare him a glance. "The statue was out of my possession quite sometime before that awful incident, so I don't think anything I can tell you will be of help, but I will answer any questions you have, just to get out of here. I bought this statue at a small shop in Greece. I thought it would make a grand talking piece at my parties." He uncrossed his legs and leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table." One day, while playing a round of golf, Jake and I were talking and the subject of the statue came up. He referred to it as Dionysus, and I corrected him, saying that it was Bacchus. He laughed and said that they were one in the same, which I disagreed with. One thing led to another, and we ended up betting on it, winner keeping the statue. Turns out, he was right. Though why that Greek shopkeeper called it Bacchus, as he is known in Roman mythology, and not Dionysus, as he's know in Greek mythology, I'll never know."

"And when was this?" Catherine inquired.

"Before the burglary at my home, I'd say August." He thought for second. "Yes, because it was very hot on the golf course, and when we were done, we had the August special of Tequila Sunrises at the club bar."

"So, he had it for about nine months. Did you know where he kept it?" Nick asked.

"I watched him put it in the garden room when I brought it over, and as far as I know, that's where he kept it. I never really saw it after that." He smiled at them. To Catherine, it was a predatory smile. She didn't believe him for one minute, but there was no way to prove it.

"One more thing on the statue, were you aware of any special characteristics it may have?" She smiled her own cold smile.

His smile faltered, but steadied. "No. It's just a marble statue, nothing special about it."

Catherine nodded. "Now, about these parties. Can you tell me exactly when the Bass's joined in them?"

Jackson was silent for a long moment. "Um, for a couple of years now. I don't know exactly how long."

"And, do you know exactly how many partners they had during that time?" Catherine persisted.

"Partners? Oh, I see, you've found out about our little hobby." He smiled, and lowered his eyes. When he looked back up, his expression was, well sultry was the best way Catherine could describe it. "No, I don't know how many partners they've had. But, I'd say it was several. There are about six regular couples involved, but sometimes we invite people we take an interest in. You for instance Ms. Willows would get a definite invite."

Catherine suppressed a shiver. "An invitation I would definitely decline. I've seen these kinds of things before, and not only do that not interest me, they make me feel sad for those involved. Now, back to the case at hand, was Samantha Lawrence ever an invited member?"

He blinked, "Too bad, you'd be very popular. And no, this woman, Samantha Lawrence was never invited."

"And you'd never met her?" Nick inserted, his voice cold, his face looking like thunder.

"No, I've never met a woman called Samantha Lawrence." Jackson smiled, his gaze finally switching to Nick. "You know, you'd be very popular also."

Nick didn't answer that. Catherine glanced at her watch. She could think of nothing else to ask at this time. "Well, that all for now, Mr. Jackson. And look, you're done in time to have a nice leisurely breakfast before your meeting." He stood up, smiled at both of them, and left.

Nick looked at her, "I don't like that guy."

"Yeah, well being an asshole isn't against the law. Nick, did we dust the inside of the statue for prints?"

"No, but it was lined in felt, I don't know if we'd get any prints off of it."

"Well, let try anyway. We might just get lucky."

* * *

Grissom walked out of his office, and turned to lock it. Catherine, on her way to see him, sped up to catch him. "Hey, where are you going? We have almost an hour of shift left. You rushing off to see a special lady?" she teased. 

Grissom hesitated a second, then responded, "Actually, I am."

Catherine went from mildly curious, to down right intrigued. "I knew it! I knew you were seeing someone. C'mon, what's her name?"

"Well…" Grissom shifted the folders in his hand.

"C'mon, tell me." Catherine begged.

"Well, actually, there are several. Rosy Mae, Sassy Susan, Devon Devine, there are a couple of guys too, Tricky Nick, and Rambunctious Robbins."

Catherine stood there with a stunned look on her face. Finally she sputtered, "Wh-what?"

"My racing cockroaches, they have a race coming up, and we're in the middle of training." He winked, and started down the hall.

After a few seconds, Catherine followed. "I can't believe you did that."

"Sorry, I couldn't help it. You can be quite nosy, Catherine." Grissom looked at her over the top of his glasses. "So, how's the case going?"

"Slowly. I mean molasses slow. Evidence is trickling in. I just wish we had something concrete." Catherine sighed.

"Well you know the thing about a trickle? It doesn't take much for it to turn into a gush." He smiled at her, and walked out the door.

Catherine shook her head, muttering, "Know it all."

She turned to head back down the hall, but turned back when he poked his head back in, "Don't forget, I'm off tonight. Have fun."

TBC…


	14. Chapter 14

**Disclaimer:** CSI, and its characters belong to Anthony Zuiker, and a whole bunch of other people. All other characters and the story belong to Maisy.

**A/n:** Okay, aso this chapter is short and fluffy, but I'm going to be wrapping this up in the next few chapters, and felt the need to add a little GSR, as requested by Aussie. So blame her. lol!

**Thanks to:** _RenLissa, AnaRita69, SapphireMind, Mystical Panther, odeepblue, angsty-otaku, gsrshipper, SoS5-16, tonic2255, Violet Eyez, ProctorFoxFan, aussieforgood, lamcsi, amisha.pineapple, Emma Face, Sasusc, sugarXcoutoure, and Haldir's Heart and Soul _**for reviewing.**

* * *

**Chapter 14**

Grissom closed the door and started down the hall. He figured that Sara was still asleep and he hoped he could slip in beside her and watch her as she slept. He'd never believed he was a very romantic man, but each day with Sara opened new vistas for him to follow, and he was continually shocking himself with the things he came up with. Take waking up for instance. There was a time, back in the lonely days, that when his alarm clock sounded, he'd wake up and go directly to the shower. He couldn't remember ever just lazing about in bed. And no, to him being in bed with a migraine didn't count as lazing. Now, well now mornings were his favorite time. He'd wake before the alarm, and lie there watching her sleep. The first thing he thought of wasn't the case he was working on, and how to go about solving it, but of her, and how to go about pleasing her. It had actually turned out to be quite an easy thing to do. It took so little to please her that he found it interesting to find as many ways to please her as he could. But, the mornings, well the mornings were for him.

Easing the bedroom door open, he closed it behind him with a quiet click. Slipping off his shoes, he bent down and picked them up, carrying them to the closet. He quickly undressed, and slowly pulled the covers back and slipped into bed. Smiling, he pulled the sheet back from over the form on the other side of the bed and gazed into a beautiful pair of brown eyes. Before he could blink, he was on the receiving end of a very sloppy kiss. Grissom laughed. "Good morning Bruno, where's mama?" Bruno just cocked his head and whined. Sitting up, Grissom looked around and found what he'd missed in his rush to slip into bed. A note was propped up on the table on his side of the bed. Picking it up, he read. 'Surprise! It's time for you to pay up. Your first order is to open the closet, and put on what's hanging there. You'll also find further instructions.' Smiling, he took out the hanger. As he turned it around, his eyebrows climbed his forehead. He looked over to where Bruno was stretched out on the bed. "Well this should be interesting."

* * *

Catherine climbed into her car and sighed. The morning was cool, but she knew it wouldn't take long for the sun to heat it to blistering. Glancing at her watch, she decided to treat herself to a caramel frappuccino from Starbucks. Waiting in the drive-thru, she let her mind wonder over the facts of the case. Wendy had said that she'd finished processing the semen samples, and now all they could do on that front was wait. Picking up her drink from the window, she thought of her list of whys. Number one was why was Samantha Lawrence with Jake Bass on the day of the killing. Why was she killed by a much more complicated means, one that was most definitely pre-meditated? Could Jake Bass have just gotten caught up in a situation and the murder had nothing to do with him, or the burglary? A viable scenario would be that Samantha had come to see him in some sort of legal capacity. She could have been followed by someone meaning to do her harm, and Jake just got caught in the middle. But, what reason would she have for seeing him? They didn't know what she'd been doing in the last few years. Maybe she'd changed her life and her name to get away from what she'd been. But, why would her blood be on the mantle? And who would want to kill her if she'd changed her life, and why would they choose that particular place to do it? She pulled into her driveway with the beginnings of a headache. Every one question she asked, revealed two more. Taking a sip of her drink, she beeped her horn. What she needed was to not think about it for a while. After all, as Grissom said, it was no good getting ahead of the evidence. She smiled as Lindsey got into the car. "You ready for school?" 

"Yeah." She muttered as she slipped on her headphones, and started flipping through the songs on her I-Pod. Shaking her head, Catherine backed the car into the street. Just what she needed, a dose of reality.

* * *

Sara walked back into the house two hours after she'd left. Sounds coming from the kitchen assured her that Grissom and followed at least part of her instructions. She couldn't wait to find out if he'd followed all of them. Carrying her bags down the hall, she peeked into the kitchen and smiled. She watched as he scurried around the kitchen, going from the recipe book set up on the counter, and the stove, to stir something in the sauté pan. And he'd certainly complied with her command, to the letter. She watched as he stood at the stove stirring something in a pot. With each rotation of his arm, he tush giggled slightly. Too bad the apron she'd picked out covered him to his knees in front, but the back was more than adequate. He hadn't heard her, so she softly turned around and headed toward the bedroom. She had her own outfit to put on. 

**TBC...**


	15. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer:** CSI, and its characters belong to Anthony Zuiker, and a whole bunch of other people. All other characters and the story belong to Maisy.

**A/n:** Wow, you guys seem to like the fluff. Well, sorry to say there's not much of that in this chapter, but I hope you guys are enjoying the case also.

**Thanks to:** _RenLissa, AnaRita69, SapphireMind, Mystical Panther, odeepblue, angsty-otaku, gsrshipper, SoS5-16, tonic2255, Violet Eyez, ProctorFoxFan, aussieforgood, lamcsi, amisha.pineapple, Emma Face, Sasusc, sugarXcoutoure, Haldir's Heart and Soul, SaraLou, and csi1gil1_ **for reviewing. **

* * *

**Chapter 15**

Sara opened her eyes and blurrily looked at the clock. It took a moment for the numbers to come into focus and make sense. When they did, she jumped up like she'd been shocked. She looked over at Grissom and saw him sigh in his sleep. He turned over, facing her, and the sheet slipped down past his hips. She raised an eyebrow at the sight. She certainly hoped she was the star of whatever dream he was having. She wondered what his reaction would be if she slipped over there, wrapped her hand around him, and woke him with a very nice surprise. How he could even be ready for more after last night was beyond her. She started to slip over when her eye caught the clock on his side of the bed. Frowning, she realized all thoughts in that direction would have to wait. She had to be at work in thirty minutes, and Grissom was no minute man. An hour would be pushing it. Sighing, she changed direction and slipped off her side of the bed. As she did, she caught sight of the apron that he'd worn last night. The neon words emblazoned on the front read, 'Entomologists Do It On All Fours'. Lying next to that was a mass of red silk, the remnants of her own outfit from the night before. She warmed at the memory of the look in his eyes when she'd walked into the kitchen. It hadn't survived the trip to the bedroom. She cast one last look toward Grissom, gave a resigned smile, and hurried to the shower.

* * *

Wendy sighed and gathered up the folders in front of her. Finally, all the results were organized. Glancing at her watch, she noted that coming in early had been worth it. Now she only had to fill Catherine and Nick in and then, unless something big came in, she could go home and get some sleep before she had to get ready for her date. Her blind date. Why had she agreed to it? She wasn't desperate for someone. She was an attractive woman, and lots of guys liked her. Greg was always flirting with her. It just… it just wasn't something she wanted to explore. He was a very nice guy, and cute to boot, but the chemistry just wasn't there. She'd felt there might be something with Keppler, but when she'd finally worked up the nerve to ask him out, he'd turned her down. Of course, he'd gone and gotten himself killed, and then she'd gotten the feeling that he and Catherine might have had something together. So why did she accept this blind date? Well, it probably had something to do with her cousins wedding, and the questions she'd face if she showed up alone. She looked up as Hodges walked down the hall, talking on his cell. Now there was an odd duck. Maybe… no. No, she didn't think she should go down that road. She was startled by a knock at her door. She looked up and saw Nick and Catherine coming in. Taking a deep breath, she turned to them. "Hey guys. I see you got my page." 

"Yeah, what do you have for us?" Catherine leaned against the counter, and Nick hopped up onto a stool.

"Okay, so this is what we have. Out of all the samples you brought me, they all came back to fourteen different people. Seven men and seven women. Now, the male and female samples were mixed, of course, and that means we can tell who was with whom. And let me tell you, these people were busy. So, most of the samples match up with the exemplars you gave me belonging to the couples who were at the party. Nothing surprising there, but two were interesting. Only one sample each belonged to each of these people. One is female, and it belonged to our female vic, Samantha Lawrence. The other one is male, and didn't belong to any of the exemplars, and nothing popped up in CODIS." She swept her hair behind her ear. "So, it looks like you have a mystery man to find."

"So, Mrs. Bass lied. Samantha did attend at least one of the parties." Nick said with a smirk.

"Well now, I don't know about that." Wendy chided.

"What do you mean? You just said her sample was taken from the house." Nick shook his head.

"I mean that her sample was fresher than the others, meaning it was left at a later date. At least two days later."

Catherine, who'd been mulling things over asked, "Who was her sample mixed with?"

"That would be Mr. Bass." Wendy answered with a restrained smile.

Nick smiled and nodded. "So, now we know why she was there."

"Now to find out why they were killed, and by whom. Thanks Wendy." Catherine smiled and led Nick out.

"We need to get a complete guest list, and if the hosts, and other guests aren't going to be helpful, we'll have to find someone who will."

* * *

"Hey Sofia, have you had any luck finding Alan Williams?" Warrick leaned against the counter, the phone cradled in the crook of his neck. 

"Not yet, what have you found out?"

"Well, the gun found at the scene was the gun used, and the fingerprints on the gun match some prints lifted from the scene. We've run them through AFIS, but nothing popped up, and we can't compare them to the nephews until you find him, because we don't have them on file." Warrick turned and saw Greg coming into the breakroom.

"Well, I'll get back to you as soon as we have him." Sofia promised.

Warrick hung up, and nodded to Greg. "Hey, how's it going?"

Greg shrugged. "Better than yesterday. Either I've gotten rid of the smell, or I've grown so used to it that I just can't smell it anymore. Whatever the case, this body farm thing has gotten interesting. I've got it narrowed down to someone on the inside, I just can't figure out what they could be doing with them, and I don't know if I want to know. Ya know?" He stirred the cup of coffee he'd poured, and sat down at the table.

Warrick joined him and took a delicate sniff. "Well, the good news is it's not just you. The smell is gone. So, how many bodies have been taken?"

"Three so far. They've been taken at regular intervals over the last month. It was only after this last one that they decided to bring the police into it." Greg reached for a donut left over from day shift.

"Have the bodies had anything in common?" Warrick asked, watching as the young CSI ate the donut in three bites.

Greg finished chewing, and swallowed. He took a sop of coffee, grimaced at the strong taste, and nodded. "They were all 'fresh' bodies, and all males between the ages of twenty and thirty."

They looked up as Sara came in and headed for the coffee pot. She put a paper bag on the counter, and pulled out the pot and sniffed. Wrinkling her nose, she poured it out and took out a zip-lock bag. She rinsed out the pot, and empted the basket. Soon she had a fresh pot brewing, and the smell permeated the room. Smiling, she turned and headed to the fridge. Whistling, she pulled out a bag of bagels, and some cream cheese. Greg grinned and hopped up. "Hey Sara, thanks for the premium brew. The regular sludge was about to give me indigestion, and I'm all out of my personal stock."

Sara turned to him, after slipping a bagel into the toaster, the smile wiped from her face. "I don't give coffee to people who set me up on dates with jerks." She turned to the pot, which was finished brewing, and took a thermos out of the paper bag. She poured all but one cup into it, and then caped it. She then poured the rest into a cup, and added sugar.

"Oh, that's cold." Warrick shook his head.

"Ah, c'mon Sara." Greg looked injured. "What do ya mean?"

"I mean, that your jerk of a cousin treated me like a… I don't even have words for how he treated me, but with respect doesn't enter into it. How could you think I'd like to go out with someone like that?"

"I-I'm sorry. I've never seen him out on a date, and he's always been a great guy to hang out with. I truly am sorry Sara."

"Well, that may be, but don't think of ever fixing me up again." She looked up at Warrick, and Nick and Catherine who'd just walked in the door. "That goes for all of you."

"Okay" They all echoed. Nodding, Sara turned to take her toast out of the toaster. She smeared it with cream cheese and strawberry jam and put it on a paper plate, then turned back to Catherine.

"So, what do you have for me today?" She ignored Greg's hang dog look, and took a bite of bagel.

"How do you feel about interviewing a party planner?" Catherine inquired.

"Sounds intriguing." And not looking back, she grabbed her coffee, and her plate, and followed Catherine and Nick out of the room.

Greg looked at the empty carafe, and frowned. "I'm going to kill James."

**TBC…**


	16. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer:** CSI, and its characters belong to Anthony Zuiker, and a whole bunch of other people. All other characters and the story belong to Maisy.

**A/n:** Sorry about last week guys, but I was in the grip of Potter madness. Hope you guys enjoy this chapter.

**Thanks to:** _RenLissa, AnaRita69, SapphireMind, Mystical Panther, odeepblue, angsty-otaku, gsrshipper, SoS5-16, tonic2255, Violet Eyez, ProctorFoxFan, aussieforgood, lamcsi, amisha.pineapple, Emma Face, Sasusc, sugarXcoutoure, Haldir's Heart and Soul, SaraLou, and csi1gil1 _**for reviewing. **

* * *

**Chapter 16**

"Good morning Mr. Gilmore. " Sara smiled as she entered the interview room. "Thank you for coming in once again."

"No problem, Ms…" He trailed off, realizing he didn't know her name.

"Sidle. It's just that we have a few unanswered questions that no one else seems to be able to answer. We're hoping you can help us." Sara sat down and opened the file she'd been carrying. "We found evidence of a male at the party that the Bass's gave, and he's not listed on the list of guests we were provided. We were hoping that you might have seen someone while you were setting up for the party, someone who wasn't a usual guest. Or someone, "she pushed a list of names over to him, "who is a regular at the parties, but isn't on this list."

Quirking an eyebrow, he glanced down at the paper. "The mark of a good, no make that great party planner, is that they are never seen. I arrive with my staff, set up, leave, come back, and break down, all without being seen by anyone, even the host. I recognize the people on this list, as they are clients of mine, but I have many clients, and I couldn't tell you if any of them were on the guest list."

"But surely you need the guest list for the invitations, and place cards, and things like that." Sara tilted her head, watching him closely.

"Normally you'd be right, but in this case, as is the case with most of the parties given by these clients, they preferred privacy. I was given a number of guests, and a list of food, and what they wanted the décor to be, and then was left to my own devices."

"And how many people were on the guest list?" Sara inquired.

"Twelve, six women and six men." He pushed the list back over to her.

"Twelve? You're sure?" Sara looked down at the list, noting those guests that were on it.

"Quite. Though if it would make you feel better, I could double check my records." Sara studied him. Since she'd come into the room, he's sat there, quite still. Only moving when he leaned forward to look at the list. He was one cool customer.

"That's okay. You seem the type to remember such things. Can you tell me if all the other guests on this list are clients of yours?"

"No problem, it's hardly a secret. My business survives on word of mouth after all. Only five of those couples are clients. I don't know the other two." He crossed his arms and watched her coolly.

"Okay Mr. Gilmore, could you wait here, and I'll be back in a few minutes." Sara go up and headed for the door, turning once she'd opened it. "Would you like something to drink while you wait?"

"No, thank you. I'm fine." Sara nodded, and left the room.

Out in the hall she stopped and thought about what her next move should be. Seeing Catherine down the hall, she decided it was best to talk to her. "Hey Catherine." She called, jogging toward her. Catherine turned and waited for her to get there.

"How'd it go?" She asked as Sara approached. Sara reached her, and stopped with a sigh.

" I don't know. He says his job is to remain unnoticed, and that he didn't see anyone." She related all she'd learned in the interview. "Do you think we ought to get his fingerprints? It might help us to rule him out, if they don't match any found at the scene."

Catherine shook her head. "His prints are on file, he has a non-gaming work card from when he first came to town and worked at the a few casinos as an in-house party planner. This was before he went out on his own. Plus, all the prints found at the scene were accounted for, and none belonged to him."

"How is that possible?" Sara asked, confused. "If he sets up the party, wouldn't you think you'd find his prints, in the kitchen, or around the party area, somewhere at least."

Catherine looked stunned. "You know, you're right. Maybe you can find out why there was such an absence of prints, either belonging to him, or his staff."

"Will do." Sara smiled and headed back towards the interview room.

She opened the door, and found Mr. Gilmore sitting as she'd left him. "Sorry Sir, we just have a couple of other questions, and then you'll be free to go."

He nodded, and continued looking at her, waiting.

"Well, we were going over our notes, and realized that though you set up the party, we didn't find one single fingerprint belonging to either you or your staff. Can you explain why that is?" Unlike last time, this time she remained standing.

"The answer to that is simple. My staff and I all wear white gloves when we set up for a party; it helps keep smudges off the more delicate items that we set up. China, silver, or crystal, plus I think it lends a look of professionalism.

Sara smiled and nodded. "Ah, I see. Well, I guess that covers it. You can leave whenever you'd like. Just remember, we may have more questions in the future, so be sure to make yourself available." Sara tuned to leave, but turned back watching as he stood, and started around the table. "One more thing, what was the theme of the party?"

He stopped and looked up at her, adjusting his cuffs. Smiling, he said. "One of the most intriguing themes I've ever done; A Bacchanalian fantasy."

* * *

Sofia leaned back against the seat and exhaled. They'd been on the hunt for Alan Williams for nearly twenty four hours. His aunt was in recovery, and stable for now, but that could change at any minute. She frowned as her stomach grumbled. Glancing at her watch, she swore. "Damn!" Sighing, she thought back to the last thing she'd eaten, and discovered that it had been yesterday. Shaking her head, she reached for the key to start the car, but was forestalled by her cell ringing. Switching directions, she reached for it, and after seeing the name on the display, she answered with a smile in her voice. "Hey, what's the news?" 

"Not much. Just thought you might be ready for a little dinner." Said Brass, sounding chipper.

"I was just thinking about grabbing a quick burger, what'd you have in mind?" She relaxed back against the seat.

"Well, I know a place that has great Chilean sea bass. They do a pretty good burger too. What'd ya say?"

"Well, I don't know…" Sofia hedged.

"Ah, c'mon. Look, I'll even pay. How 'bout that?" Brass wheedled.

"In that…" she was cut off by her radio. "Detective Curtis, we've located that suspect in your 415A. He's being brought into PD right now." Sofia sighed and continued. "In that case I'll have to take a rain check. They just brought my suspect in. Do you mind?"

"Nah, that's okay. We'll do it some other time." Brass hung up and sighed, slightly disappointed. Sofia was good company, and not bad to look at. Looking at his phone, he tried to think about someone else to ask. He knew that Catherine, Nick, Sara, and Greg were busy, and Warrick would be heading to the same place as Sofia… wait, Grissom was off tonight. Glancing at his watch, he figured it was about time he dragged his friend out to do a little socializing.

* * *

"So, the party was themed after that statue…" Catherine started, but was interrupted by Nick, who came striding into the room. 

"Tox is in on that substance found in the statue, and boy is it something!" Nick grinned.

"Well, what was it. Heroin? Cocaine? What?" Catherine pushed.

"None of the above. It's chemically similar to Ecstasy, but has a least triple the effect. It's commonly called Starry Night, and this is some powerful stuff. It lowers your inhibitions so that even a nun would do some lowdown and dirty things, but that's not all. Once the drug wears off, you don't remember anything you did while on it. You could go on a murder spree, and wake up the next morning without even the remnants of a bad dream. That is IF you wake up." Nick slapped the file he was holding on the table. "The dosing of this drug has to be very precise. You take even an ounce, hell less than an ounce more than recommended, and it can kill you."

"Starry Night? I don't think I've ever heard of that one." Sara said, pulling the file towards her."

"Not many people have. It's not very prevalent in the U.S., it's used mainly in Greece, and other Mediterranean countries." Nick responded with a raised eyebrow. "And who do we know who's been in that area recently?"

Sara shook her head. "But, what does this drug have to do with the burglaries?"

Catherine, lost in thought, blinked. "Maybe nothing. It could be just a coincidence that the house was robbed on the same day of the murder. If they are separate events, then it's possible that maybe one of the burglars saw something…" She started excitedly, but realized before the words were fully out of her mouth the problem with that. "But we don't have any idea who they are." She said sounding defeated.

"Well, we know more than we did before, that's something." Nick smiled.

They were interrupted by a knock at the door, and looked up to see Wendy leaning there. "Hey guys, sorry to disturb you, but I thought you might want to know this right away. I got a hit on that print found inside the statue." Now she had everyone's attention.

"Well? Who was it?" Nick urged.

"None other than Rose Bass." She said with a smile.

"Well." Catherine grinned. "Looks like we have quite a bit to talk to Mrs. Bass about. Let's get her back in here."

* * *

Brass checked the address against the contact info he'd gotten from the station. Grissom hadn't mentioned that he'd moved, but this wasn't the same place they'd all been to a few years ago. Shrugging, he got out of the car and started up the front walk, appreciating the xeriscaped front yard. Gil had himself quite the desert garden. Whistling, he headed up the porch steps. 

Grissom shifted one file from the pile in front of him, to the pile on the floor beside him. "Another one down, fifteen to go." He said with a sigh. Opening the file, he reached for his tea glass, but was startled at the sound of the door bell. Glancing at his watch, he frowned. Who would come here at this time of night? In fact, who would come here at all? Thinking it might be a neighbor; he got up and headed for the door. Bruno getting up from his place at Grissom's feet to follow him. Looking through the peephole, he was surprised to say the least. Opening the door he asked, "Jim, what are you doing here?" Then an awful thought occurred to him, and before Brass could respond to the first question, he fired off a succession of others. "Is there a problem at the lab? Was there another explosion? Is anyone hurt?"

Surprised at the volley of questions, Brass cut in. "Relax Gil, nothing's wrong at the lab, and as far as I know, everyone is safe as a bug in a rug. I just came by to see if you wanted to get something to eat."

Bruno, tired of being ignored, chose that moment to jump up on Brass and start licking his face. Brass held his head away from the sloppy seeking tongue, and pleaded." Gil, could you pull this monster away?"

Grissom, finally realizing that everything was indeed okay, and no one was hurt, started and reached forward to pull Bruno back. Grabbing him by the color, he pulled him down and kneeled down beside him. "Hey buddy, the detective doesn't need your sloppy kisses." Patting him on the rump, he said. "Now go on back inside and lay down." Bruno gave a little whine, but followed orders and trotted back into the house.

"Sorry about that. He gets excited at visitors." Grissom chuckled.

"Yeah, that kind of excitement I can do without. When'd you get the pooch anyway?"

At this, Grissom hedged. "A few months ago. You-you said something about getting something to eat?"

"Yeah, I thought it might be a good time to catch up. What'd ya say?"

Grissom couldn't think of a reason not to go, but he needed to get his shoes, the ones tucked under his desk, and his keys, and he couldn't leave Jim standing out here while he did so. Thinking of nothing, there was only one thing to do. "Sure, come-come in while I get my shoes. You caught me catching up on some paper work, and I can't tell you how it pains me to be pulled away from it." He said with a nervous laugh.

Starting down the hall, his eyes darted here and there, making sure nothing that screamed Sara was lying around. Luckily their tastes matched, and with the exception of the warm colors, which his last place definitely lacked, it didn't seem obvious that a woman lived here. That was until they entered his office, and he noticed Sara's shoes lying beside the chair she called her 'Eliza Doolittle chair', because it reminded her of that song from My Fair Lady. There was no way to pass those off as his. Then his glance slid to the framed photo of them at Fisherman's Wharf, taken when they'd somehow gotten a couple of days off together and gone on a day trip to San Francisco. He was trying to figure out how to hide it, when he heard the chirp of Jim's cell. While he was looking at the display, Grissom quickly reached up and pushed it face down.

Looking up from his cell, he caught Gil as he hid the picture. He hadn't seen what the picture was of, but he was a trained observer, and this house had a distinct feminine touch to it, and though that could be a decorators doing, he had noticed the shoes, so he'd concluded that a female resided here, at least part time. Letting it go for now, he said. "Well, it looks like that dinner will have to wait. I've got a 419 at the Monaco. Smiling as he watched Gil nod, and saw his eyes shift around the room. "So, you can get back to your paperwork."

Gil smiled and nodded. "Oh well, I'd regret putting it off in the morning anyway." He walked towards Brass and gestured toward the door. "We'll have to get together soon to… catch up."

As soon as he'd closed the door behind Jim, Grissom heaved a heavy sigh. "That was close."

* * *

Brass left the elevator, and walked down the hall, his mind still on what, or who Gil was hiding. He reached the marked off door, and looked inside. The first Officer on the scene saw him and came over. "So, what'd we have?" 

"Seems to be a possible suicide, found a load of empty capsules in the bathroom, and what looks like a powdery substance on the glass." Brass looked over to the woman laying on the floor, a practically empty glass of wine sitting on the coffee table next to her.

"So, why'd you call me?" He asked irritated.

"Because, you're working a case involving the victim." The officer answered.

"Who is it?" Brass asked, slightly mollified.

"Rose Bass."

TBC….


	17. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer:** CSI, and its characters belong to Anthony Zuiker, and a whole bunch of other people. All other characters and the story belong to Maisy.

**Thanks to:** RenLissa, AnaRita69, SapphireMind, Mystical Panther, odeepblue, angsty-otaku, gsrshipper, SoS5-16, tonic2255, Violet Eyez, ProctorFoxFan, aussieforgood, lamcsi, amisha.pineapple, Emma Face, Sasusc, sugarXcoutoure, Haldir's Heart and Soul, SaraLou, and csi1gil1 **for reviewing.**

* * *

**Chapter 17**

Catherine stopped at the door and observed the activity in the room. Nick was already there, and had started printing the room. The body had already been taken away by the coroner, so the area where she had lain was bare. If you didn't know better, you wouldn't know someone had died there at all.

Nick looked up from printing the coffee table, and nodded. "Brass said it looks like a suicide, but I have my doubts." He stood up from his kneeling position and walked over to her. "I mean think about it. Her alibi was confirmed. Even on the off chance that she hired someone to kill her husband, we've found no concrete evidence on who that might be. Sure we have DNA found in the house, but we have no name to go with it. It just makes no sense for her to kill herself."

"Well Nicky, sometimes people don't act as we think they should. Brass said that there were pill casings in the bathroom, and a prescription bottle in Rose's name. The drug was a powerful anti-depressant." Catherine sighed and looked around the room. "We know she was basically forced into a lifestyle that most people would abhor. She seems to have been willing to do most anything for her husband, and maybe the sudden loss of him coupled with the investigation drove her over the edge."

Shifting, she set her kit down, opened it and took out a pair of gloves. She walked over to the coffee table and picked up the wine glass that was sitting there. "Lets get the remains of this wine to the lab. I want it tested for any foreign substances. And of course, we need to print the glass." She set the glass back down, and looked around. "Have you gotten to the bathroom yet?"

"No, I was just about to finish up in here." Nick walked over and picked up the wine glass, pouring the liquid into a plastic container. He screwed the cap on tight, then wrapped an evidence seal around it. He used a sharpie to mark the date and time, plus the location, then placed this container in a paper bag, sealing this also, and marking it. Then he dusted the glass, lifting two clean prints. Noting a white substance on the lip of the glass, he used a tape lift to collect it, then securing the glass in a padded cardboard box; he sealed it, and marked that. Then he marked the prints and placed the tape lift in a bindle and marked that also. He went to the bathroom door and watched as Catherine collected the pill casings. "I've finished in the living room, is there anything you'd like me to do in here?"

Catherine exhaled. "If you could check out the drains on the tub and the sink that would be great. You know, there are twenty-five casing here, and the bottle was supposed to contain twenty-five pills, but the date on the prescription is dated before the murder of her husband. If she was on anti-depressants and we have to presume from the prescription that she was on them before the murder, then why are all the pills accounted for? Wouldn't she have taken some since they it was filled?"

"Maybe she just forgot. People forget things in stressful situations, and maybe she just didn't think about them until tonight, when she decided to use them to take her life." Nick had kneeled by the tub and was using tweezers to remove the hair in the drain.

Catherine went back to collecting the casings. "I guess we'll know for sure when Doc gets through with the body."

* * *

Warrick and Sofia met in the hallway outside of interview room two. "Where'd they find him?" Warrick asked.

"At a diner downtown. He was sitting in a booth rocking back and forth. The manager got suspicious because he hadn't ordered anything and he seemed so jittery, so she called the station to report a possible druggie. Thought he'd snap at any minute and start shooting up the place." Sofia reached for the door handle and sighed. "As you'll see, that was not going to happen." She opened the door and Warrick looked in. Sitting at the table was young man no older than fifteen or sixteen. At least that was the first impression. On closer inspection he could see lines around the eyes and mouth indicating he was a good bit older. The man was rocking back and forth, mumbling to himself. Sofia closed the door again and sighed. "He's severely autistic. We were finally able to find someone that knows him, his doctor, and he says that when he first came to live with his aunt, he wouldn't talk, and was in a constant state of agitation. He's thirty years old, but as the mental age of a ten year old. However, he says that he's calmed down quite a bit since moving in with his aunt and has even begun talking more. He'd totally at a loss as to why he would shoot his aunt. He says she's the one person he trusts." She nodded to a man standing down the hall. "He would like to sit in on the questioning. Try to help him to remain calm."

Warrick glanced down the hall at a tall slender man with sparse red hair and freckles. He gave them a warm smile, and Warrick understood why he worked with patients with mental disabilities. He radiated a warmth and calmness that anyone would find inviting. He turned back to Sofia. "That's okay with me. Anything to make this go a little smoother."

She nodded and gestured for the doctor to come forward. When he came near enough he held out his hand and said. "Clay Hardwick. Thanks so much for letting me do this."

"Remember, you're just to sit there, and don't interfere. We need to get to the bottom of this, and we will have to ask some tough questions, so we don't need you complicating matters by encouraging him not to answer them." Sofia held his gaze as she said this.

He nodded. "I'm there strictly to keep him calm, and help to hasten the questioning. I want to find out what happened just as much as the rest of you."

Sofia opened the door, and gestured for them to go in. "Alan, we have few questions to ask you about your aunt. Do you think you can give us the answers we need?"

Alan didn't look up. Dr. Hardwick cleared his throat, and said. "Alan, its Dr. Clay. Do you think you can help these nice people?"

At the sound of his voice, Alan's head jerked up with a hopeful expression. "D-D-Dr. C-c-clay?" he stuttered. "C-can yo-you get me out of he-here? I-I wan-want to –to go ho-home."

Dr. Hardwick gave him a smile. 'First you need to answer some questions, okay? Then we'll see about going home."

Alan's smile slowly faded, and he bowed his head again. "I-I di-did so-something ba-bad di-didn't I?"

Warrick and Sofia looked at each other, and slowly sat down at the table. Warrick spoke first. "Alan? Alan, what do you think you did that was bad?"

Alan sniffed, and looked down, shaking his head.

Sofia leaned in and said in a soothing voice. "Alan, we need to know what happened to your aunt, and it'll go better for you if you tell us instead of us finding it out on our own."

Alan glanced up at them without lifting his head. After several moments of silence, he answered. "I-I was pl-playing with-with Uncle T-Tom's g-gun." He frowned and whispered, "Aunt J-Joan always said to leave it alone, but I saw where she hi-hid the ke-key." He smiled shyly. "Aunt Joan went to the store and, and my movie went off, and Uncle Tom's gun looked so shiny in the gl-lass box on the ma-mantle. I-I sneaked into Aunt Joan's bed-bedroom and got the ke-key, and…" He cut off and smiled weakly. His voice has risen in boyish exuberance as he'd told his tale of daring do, but now returned to a whisper of reverence. "I-I pretended I was Jo-John Wayne from the movie I was watching, and I was having a show down with a bad man…" His face dropped and he sniffed, tears began to stream down his face. "The d-door o-opened and I-I tu-turned an-and pu-pulled th-the tri-trigger and-and-and Au-Aunt Jo-Joan dr-dropped th-the gro-grocery b-bags, and-and s-she w-was bl-bl-bleeding." Between the crying and the stuttering it was hard to understand what he was saying, but they got the gist. "I-I c-called fo-for h-her, b-but she di-didn't mo-move. I-I w-was sc-scared." At this point he just dissolved into complete incoherency.

Warrick looked at Sofia, and she nodded. Mr. Hardwick was trying to comfort Alan, and they thought he may have an easier time of it if they left. Out in the hall, Warrick sighed and sat down on the bench. Sofia sat beside him. "So, does the evidence bear out his story?"

"It doesn't discount it. The gun was left at the scene, the case was on the mantle, and if I remember correctly, there was a John Wayne movie in the VCR. Given his mental, um instability, it's possible that that's the way it happened." Warrick's phone chirped. When he hung up, he turned to Sofia. "That was the hospital; Mrs. Williams is awake, and asking about her nephew. I think I'll go over there and see if she can answer a few questions. Keep him here until I get back, or call." Sofia nodded, and Warrick got up and left. If they were lucky, this case might have a happy ending.

* * *

Sara pushed away from the break room table and gathered up the debris from her lunch. She checked her watch and realized it had taken her only fifteen minutes to eat. She'd hoped it would take longer, as she had absolutely nothing to do. She'd never known Las Vegas to be so crime free. She'd wish for something to come in, but feared that it might cause an avalanche of cases. No, it was best to deal with the downtime as best as possible. Pouring herself a cup of coffee to take with her, she turned and headed toward the door, but paused when her phone started ringing. She dumped the coffee on the table so fast it spilled, and fumbled for the phone. Heart pounding, she looked around frantically as she opened it. Sighing, she answered it. "Hey, God that was close!"

"What was close?" Grissom asked as he settled in behind his desk.

"I forgot to put my phone on vibrate, and you know the ringtone I have set for when you call." She whispered.

He couldn't help the smile that spread around his face. He knew she should be more careful, but he could just imagine the look on her face when "You give me fever" started coming from her phone. "I told you that you shouldn't have chosen such a risqué song." He chuckled warmly.

"HOT song for a HOT man." She grinned. "So, shouldn't you be asleep by now?" She wedged the phone between her shoulder and head, and grabbed some paper towels to clean up the spilt coffee.

"Well, I was doing some paperwork earlier, but was interrupted by a surprise visitor." Sara stopped with the dripping paper towels in her hands.

"What?! Who?" She lowered herself into a chair and dropped the soaked paper towels onto the table.

"Brass showed up and wanted to go out to get something to eat. I had to let him in while I got my shoes on. I don't think he noticed anything, there was one tense moment when I thought he might see that picture of us on the pier, but I got it turned while he was looking away." Grissom doodled on the notepad in front of him as he spoke.

Sara sighed with relief. "That's good. So, where'd you go to eat?"

"We didn't. He got called away. So, I'm about to go to bed, but I'm going to make sure to be up on time to make you something for breakfast, then we can go back to bed, together."

"That sounds nice." She murmured. As she'd listened, she'd gotten up and finished cleaning the table. Now she smiled and leaned against the counter. "I AM awfully hungry. How 'bout we skip breakfast?" Grinning she turned and froze. Greg was standing in the doorway with an intrigued look on his face. "Yes, I'll probably skip breakfast; I have some errands to run. So, I'll see you later then?" She said briskly.

Grissom, understanding perfectly grinned, and briefly contemplated a little tit for tat, remembering an incident a few months earlier where he'd been talking to Greg, and she'd called and proceeded to torment him. Deciding to take the high road, he agreed that they'd talk later and let her go.

"Hi, Greg. What's up?" Sara moved towards the coffeepot and poured another cup.

Greg remained silent, watching her with speculation. Finally, coming to a decision, he asked. "I could use some help on the case I'm on. Do you think you could help?"

Sara hesitated. She didn't know how much he'd heard, but was sure that he'd bring it up at some point. On the other hand, she had nothing to do, and helping him would be a welcome distraction. "Sure, but remember I'm only doing this for something to do. I'm still mad at you."

Greg nodded. "Understood. I have to run to the locker room for a minute. Meet you in the layout room?"

Sara nodded and left the room. Greg watched as she walked down the hall, clipping her phone back to her belt. Something was going on, and he wanted to be the one to find out what it was. Shaking his head, he left the room, determined to find some answers.

**TBC….**


	18. Chapter 18

**Disclaimer:** CSI, and its characters belong to Anthony Zuiker, and a whole bunch of other people. All other characters and the story belong to Maisy.

**Thanks to:** RenLissa, AnaRita69, SapphireMind, Mystical Panther, odeepblue, angsty-otaku, gsrshipper, SoS5-16, tonic2255, Violet Eyez, ProctorFoxFan, aussieforgood, lamcsi, amisha.pineapple, Emma Face, Sasusc, sugarXcoutoure, Haldir's Heart and Soul, SaraLou, and csi1gil1 **For Reviewing.**

* * *

**Chapter 18**

"Thanks for calling Mr. Williams. No, no I understand. That's fine. No really, it's okay. Just… yes, if you have any problems just give me a call." Greg hung up the phone and collapsed onto the stool and buried his head in his folded arms on the table.

"Greg? Greg what is it?" Sara watched as he rolled his head back and forth on his arms.

"Day ound he boshies" Greg mumbled with his head down.

"What? Greg that makes no sense." Sara walked over and pulled on his shoulder.

Reluctantly he looked up. "They found the bodies." He got out before he dropped his head back down.

"But, but that's a good thing. Isn't it?" Sara asked, confused.

Greg looked up and rolled his eyes. "For them. But I'm the one who's going to look like a fool." He slapped his hands on the table and sat up straight."When Grissom gave me this case I was stoked! My chance to work solo and show Grissom what I can do. Then of course I got there and thought that Grissom must be punishing me. To send me out to this… place. This place that smelled so terrible I have no comparison for the stench. But, I get past that. It seemed like one of those cases that people talk about. The kind that gets written up in forensics journals." He rubbed his hand over his eyes and up through his hair.

"Well, I understand your disappointment at not being there for the resolution, but you helped it get closed, right?" Sara leaned against the table, concerned.

"That's just it isn't it?" Greg exhaled sharply. "There was no crime. All my work was for nothing!" He hopped up and began pacing. "There I was thinking I was on the trail of some necrophilia bastard, and what happens? What do you think turned out to be the solution?" He stopped and stared at her questioningly.

"Um, I don't know. What was it?"

Pointing to the phone, he sniffed. "That was Mr. Williams. He's the man in charge of the body farm, the Big Cheese, and the man in charge of acquisitions. He's been on vacation for the past month, but before he left he assigned a volunteer to distribute the next five incoming bodies. He told this volunteer where to put the bodies, and then went on his merry way to Costa Rica, forgetting to change the locations on the paperwork. See, he'd changed where he wanted them at the last minute, but neglected to changed said paperwork. Then, when the assistant to the director decided it was time to check on the bodies' condition, make sure they'd been placed properly, and such, he couldn't find them. At first, when he could only not find a couple, he put if down to error, but when he couldn't find five, well, he thought he had a huge body snatching situation on his hands, and called us in." He stopped and shook his head.

"But, didn't this assistant ask the volunteer where he put the bodies?" Sara was sure no one could be this disorganized.

"Well, no one knew who had been assigned to distribute the bodies at first, and by the time they figured it out, the guy had left the country. See, he's a med student, volunteering there to get the free observing time, and because of his study schedule, worked odd hours. The five bodies that were 'lost' were the last five that he did before he took a small vacation before he started his residency at Desert Palm. So, all the assistant to the director had to go by was faulty paperwork. That is until yesterday, when the director came back and on hearing about the uh, hoopla, went about discovering the problem for himself. End of story, he showed them where the bodies were, and my services were no longer needed." He slumped back onto the stool.

Sara bit her lip. She was sure that after a couple of days, Greg would see the funny side of this, but now was not the time to burst out laughing in his face. "I…" She cleared her throat. "It wasn't your fault Greg. All you did was do your job." Stopping, she quickly swallowed a chuckle that had almost escaped. "To…" She was interrupted by a vibrating on her hip. Checking, she realized it was the alarm she had set to remind her of when it was time to go home. "Listen, I-I have to go. I have an appointment this morning, but everything is fine. You just need to go home and relax. Maybe you can find Nick or Warrick, or someone, to go out and get breakfast with or something. You know, help you unwind. Everything will look better tomorrow." She watched as Greg nodded, hesitated for a moment, but feeling the urge to laugh again, she turned and hurried away. She made it halfway down the hall before the first giggle escaped her.

* * *

"Okay Doc, what can you tell us?" Catherine crossed her arms and watched as the older gentlemen uncovered the body on the table. 

"Well, the prelim doesn't usually give you a whole lot. Usually just enough to know you'll have a lot to do in the full autopsy, but in this case the body is singing like a canary." He pointed to a jar sitting on a metal tray. "As this was a suspected suicide, connected with a double homicide I had tox make it a top priority, but I knew we weren't dealing with a suicide long before those results came back." He gestured to the body. "The lungs had liquid in them. Wine to be exact. A person drinks drug laced wine, it'll be in their stomach, not their lungs. Only one way that happens."

"She didn't drink it; it was poured down her throat." Catherine said softly.

"Bingo. Plus, the tox results came back. She had a double the recommended dose of a sleep aid in her system, Ambien, but nowhere near enough to kill her. She would have been feeling no pain though. And there wasn't a trace of this prescription anxiety drug that was you suspected is what she overdosed on. But, the wine had enough of that drug in it to kill someone twice her size." Doc pulled the sheet up to her throat.

"So, she took a couple sleeping pills, went to sleep, was killed, and then drug laced wine was poured down her throat." Nick summarized.

"Do we know yet how she actually died?" Catherine braced her hands on an empty table.

"I'll have to wait for the full autopsy to be sure, but on a hunch I checked her over for any punctures like we found on Ms. Lawrence." He turned her head and lifted her hair, showing a small puncture at the base of her skull. " I'll have to open her up first, but I'm willing to bet that cause of death was an air embolis."

"Thanks Doc, please get back to us when you've done the complete autopsy." Catherine looked at Nick, and then turned towards the door.

"There was one more thing." Doc spoke up.

Catherine stopped and turned around. Lifting her hands on either side of her, she asked. "What's that?"

"There are signs of sexual activity."

"Consentual?" Nick asked.

"Yes, but I would say rough sex. Also, fairly recent, but AFTER the sleeping aid was taken." Doc sighed and covered her head with the sheet.

"So, either she didn't want to be fully aware of what was happening, or someone else didn't want her to be." Catherine turned around, thoughtful.

Nick followed her out and waited for her to say what she was thinking.

Finally she looked at him. "So someone was cleaning up a mess. I wonder if that's what they were doing with the first murders."

"What do you mean?" Nick asked, striding down the hall beside her.

"I don't really know yet, but the evidence will get us there."

* * *

Nick swallowed the cold water from the water fountain and wiped his lips with the back of his hand as he straightened. He closed his eyes, and willed his mind to clear. It was past time to go home, and there was really nothing that he could do until the results came back from Trace and DNA. He should go home and get some sleep, his body was telling him to do just that, but his mind wouldn't shut off. As he walked by the breakroom he saw Greg sitting at the table, looking glum. Stopping he changed direction and headed in to see what was up. "Hey man, why so down?" 

Greg looked up with a frown. He didn't really want to go over it again, especially after Sara's barely contained mirth. Making a decision, he told Nick the whole story, and to his credit he did a better job of hiding his amusement than Sara. "Say, you feel like going out, getting something to eat?"

"Well, I really should go home, but my mind is spinning." He straddled a chair and propped his elbows on the table. "So yeah, that would be nice." They looked up as Warrick walked in.

"Hey Rick, we're going out to drown our misery in something deep fried, and bad for you, want to come?" Greg asked, feeling a little lighter.

Warrick thought of the empty rooms waiting at home. Tina would be at work, and even when she was there, the place was cold as ice. "Sure. That sounds good."

Greg sat up straighter. "Yes. Now we're talking. Hey, how'd your case work out?" Greg smiled for the first time in hours.

"Better than expected. The DA's not going to press any charges, and until his aunt can come home Alan is going to be staying at a special home for people with his disabilities. When he does go back home someone will come over every day for the first few months, just to make sure everything is going well. Everyone seems happy with this." Warrick sat down at the table also.

"So, where are we going to go?" Greg asked, back to his peppy self.

"Let's try somewhere new. Hey Cath!" Nick called as she walked by. She poked her head in. "You want to go out for some breakfast with us?"

"Sorry guys, I have a meeting at Lindsey's school, and then my bed is calling to me. You guys have a good time though." She smiled and looked at Nick. "Especially you. We should have some results in tonight, and hopefully we'll get a lead." She smiled again and winked as she left.

The three smiled after her. Greg spoke up. "So, where are we going?"

* * *

Sara walked in expecting to smell breakfast cooking, but the air was only scented with the air freshener plug-ins they used. Peeking into the kitchen she found it spotless and Grissom free. Walking down the hall she looked into his study. Also empty. Starting to get concerned she continued down the hall to the bedroom. Softly pushing the door open, she looked in. There he was, sleeping soundly. The covers were tossed across his body, covering him from mid-chest down one leg; the other leg was thrown out, resting on top of the comforter. His breathing deep and even. Walking over, she slipped off her shoes and the rest of clothes as she went. Climbing onto the bed, she curled up next to him, and started running her fingers over his face. His eyelashes fluttered, and opened. The deep blue coming instantly to awareness. Pulling back the covers, she looked down and smiled. 

"Didn't want to waste any time when you got here." He said his voice gruff from sleep.

She smiled, leaning down and kissing him. "That's why I love you. You always know what I want."

She giggled as he rolled over, pinning her under him as he went. "That's easy when our wants are so similar." He leaned down and kissed her, gently sucking her lower lip. He stopped long enough to ask, "So, are you hungry?"

She growled. "Starving!" In one move she flipped him over so that she was straddling him. "Now shut up and feed me." And she took his mouth with vigor.

**TBC…**


	19. Chapter 19

**Disclaimer:** CSI, and its characters belong to Anthony Zuiker, and a whole bunch of other people. All other characters and the story belong to Maisy.

**Thanks to:** _RenLissa, AnaRita69, SapphireMind, Mystical Panther, odeepblue, angsty-otaku, gsrshipper, SoS5-16, tonic2255, Violet Eyez, ProctorFoxFan, aussieforgood, lamcsi, amisha.pineapple, Emma Face, Sasusc, sugarXcoutoure, Haldir's Heart and Soul, SaraLou, and csi1gil1_ **for reviewing.**

**A/n:** Sorry this chapter is so short guys, I'm on vacation, and my nephew has a problem with me being at the computer too long without including him. Aussie, I hope this chapter makes you happy. :)

* * *

**Chapter 19**

Grissom's first awareness was of a sweet heaviness lying on his chest. Second he felt the soft puffs of air brushing his skin. He slowly opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. His lips were curved in a smile, and he realized they'd been that way in his sleep. He lifted his arm that had been lying on the pillow next to him, and reached up and stroked her hair. She muttered in her sleep, and lifted her knee, which had been resting between his legs. As she pulled it up, her knee brushed him and his body responded with a jerk. She sighed and the hand that had been resting on his stomach contracted, giving his belly a small squeeze before her fingers extended and slid up his torso. His mind was divided between the gentle trailing of her fingers, and her knee nudging a part of him that was quite awake, even if the rest of him was still complacent with sleep. Her hand finally ended its journey when it curled around his neck, her thumb resting on his pulse. Lifting her head, she shifted so that she was lying completely over him. With her other hand she reached up and traced it around his eyes, and down his nose, finally finding his lips, and lightly rubbing the length of them. She smiled and leaned forward. "Good morning." She whispered.

"Morning." He answered gruffly.

Sara looked over at the clock. Grinning, she returned her gaze to him. "Guess what?"

"Umm, what?" Grissom was entranced by a lock hair that had fallen forward as she leaned over him, and was brushing his chin.

"We woke up early." She relaxed further on top of him, rubbing her heal up and down his leg.

"Really?" He ran his hands up and down her back. Quickly he wrapped his arms around her and flipped her onto her back, reversing her actions of the night before. "Whatever will we do with the extra time?" He leaned down to nuzzle her neck.

Sara stretched her neck, giving him more access. "I-I don't know…" She sighed as his morning beard scratched her skin. "I-I guess we'll just have to think of something." She gripped his head in her hands and brought his lips to hers. "We're smart, I'm sure we can think of something." And without giving him time to answer, took his lips in a searing kiss.

* * *

Catherine walked into the building and barely took time to drop her stuff in her locker before heading down to see Doc. She pushed the swinging door open and stopped, looking around for him. Someone walked in behind her and she turned with a greeting on her lips, before noticing that it was David. "Oh, hi David. Do you know where Doc is?" She watched as he wheeled a sheet draped body into the room.

David stopped, pushing his glasses up further onto the bridge of his nose. "Uh, he called and said he was running a little late. He stayed late this morning doing an autopsy, and got a late start this tonight. He should be here in about ten min…" He was interrupted when the door swung open again and Doc Robbins barreled in, his crutch clicking on the floor as he muttered to himself.

"Damn people! Don't know how to drive when we get a little rain. He hobbled over to his desk and threw his keys down. Propping his crutch against the desk, he slipped off his rain coat and tossed it on his chair. That's when he noticed the other two standing on the other side of the room. "Oh, good morning Catherine, David. Sorry about that." Taking a deep breath, he turned and sat down.

Catherine smiled at David and walked over to see him. "You okay, Doc?"

"Yeah, yeah, just fed up with imbecile drivers. Now, you're here for the results on the Bass woman's autopsy." He sighed and reached for a file sitting on the desk.

"Sorry Doc, I just really need to get going on this case. It has dragged on way to long." She gave him a smile and turned to lean against the desk.

"I know. So, here it is. I was right, she died of a pulmonary embolis. Several large air bubbles traveled to her heart from a hypodermic puncture to the back of the neck." He closed the file and pushed it forward.

"And the sexual activity?" Catherine enquired.

"The best I can determine is it was consensual, but like I said, with the amount of the sleep medication in her system, she wasn't aware of what was happening." He looked at her over his glasses. "We may have some good news on that front though. She has a couple of piercings, and with as rough as the sex was there is the chance that some on the pertner rubbed off, umm so to speak. I swabbed them and sent the sample to DNA."

"Thanks Doc. That may just be the break we've been looking for." Smiling, she walked out of the door.

**TBC...**


	20. Chapter 20

**Disclaimer:** CSI, and its characters belong to Anthony Zuiker, and a whole bunch of other people. All other characters and the story belong to Maisy.

**Thanks to:** _RenLissa, AnaRita69, SapphireMind, Mystical Panther, odeepblue, angsty-otaku, gsrshipper, SoS5-16, tonic2255, Violet Eyez, ProctorFoxFan, aussieforgood, lamcsi, amisha.pineapple, Emma Face, Sasusc, sugarXcoutoure, Haldir's Heart and Soul, SaraLou, and csi1gil1_ **for reviewing**.

**A/n:** Okay guys, so this is the last chapter. I'm going to take a small break from casefiles and multi-chapter stories until after the season opener. I'll try to write a couple of oneshots until then, but can't promise anything. Thanks to everyone who have stuck with the story, and thanks to those that have reviewed, and those who haven't. I hope everyone was entertained, and had a good time reading this. As always, I am un-beta'd so all mistakes are mine.

* * *

**Chapter 20**

"Okay, lay it out for me." Catherine settled herself in her chair and absently stirred her coffee.

Nick leaned back in his chair opposite her and propped his feet on the desk. "Two people were killed, by different means. One, a man, Jake Bass, owner of the house the victims were found in, was fatally shot. The other, Samantha Lawrence, a woman with a mysterious past, was knocked unconscious and then injected with air, causing an air embolis; a large air bubble which lodged in the heart. On questioning Rose Bass, the vic's wife, it was discovered that several valuable pieces of art were missing. This, plus the lack of latent evidence caused us to believe that this was part of a burglary ring that we've been investigating for months, and that Mr. Bass and Ms. Lawrence caught them in the act, and were killed for that reason. It was discovered that all the burglary victims had a rather sordid history, with a preference for parties that involve a great deal of swapping, of the wifely variety. We decided to question all the people with a connection to the parties which leads us to a rather prissy party planner, and very little other info, except that he and his staff are very discreet and they wear gloves. How am I doing?" He grinned.

Catherine grinned back. "Great so far, please continue.

"We catch the widow going through some papers at the house, which we find to be receipts for the stolen items, but when we give her the chance to list everything she needs she doesn't put them on the list. Seems odd considering how intent she seemed on getting them when we first walked in." Nick swung his legs down and hopped up.

Catherine had been looking at her desk as he talked, matching her memories to his recitation, but when he mentioned the papers she looked up. "Did we ever go over them, try to find out what was so important for her to sneak into a crimescene, but not take them with her?"

"No, I don't think so. I just left them on the desk where you put them after you picked them up. They didn't really seem relevant." Nick squinted at her. "Maybe I should go back and have a look at them."

"Good idea, but let's finish going over everything first." She waved her hand for him to continue.

"On further investigation we found a marble statue with Samantha Lawrence's blood on it, and Rose Bass's fingerprint on the inside of the hidden compartment, a compartment she had denied knowledge of. We also found trace amounts of a rare drug in that hidden compartment. We concluded that the burglary might have taken place earlier and might have had nothing to do with the murders. But we haven't ruled out a connection. We found DNA evidence of all the victims, and were able to match all but one. At this time we still don't have a match for that. Once we'd found the widow's fingerprint we determined we needed to talk to her again, but before we could we found her dead, supposedly by her own hand, but evidence didn't bare that out, and we have now determined that she was murdered in the same manner as Samantha Lawrence, and probably by the same person. The person who did it was most likely involved in the other murders. We did find DNA of someone on the victim, but as to whether it was the killers? We don't know yet. Seems likely, but the person who she'd had sex with may be different from the one who killed her. Though because of the drug timeline, that seems unlikely."

"So, when will Wendy have the DNA results on the samples found on Mrs. Bass?" Catherine searched through the file in front of her.

Nick glanced at his watch. "They should be ready about now. Let's go check it out." Nick headed for the door, Catherine right behind him.

* * *

Sara poured the carafe of coffee into a thermos and screwed the lid on. Then she added two sugars to the cup she's poured, stirred it, and added a swirl of real whipped cream. She lifted it to her nose and inhaled the aroma of cinnamon and brown sugar. Smiling a contented smile that the coffee was only half responsible for, she grabbed the thermos and headed down the hall. "Hey Sara, can you come with us?" Catherine called as she and Nick headed toward DNA.

Sara stopped mid-stride and turned to follow them. "Sure, I'm free." They continued down the hall. Sara sipped her coffee, thinking about other uses for the whipped cream.

Catherine watched Sara. She had a look in her eyes, a smile on her lips, and skip in her step. She could swear she was looking at a woman in love. She opened her mouth to ask her about it, but realized they'd reached their destination, and Wendy was motioning for them. All thoughts of Sara's love life slipped from her mind, and she focused on the case.

"Hey Wendy, tell us you have something." Catherine clasped her hands in a pleading gesture.

"I have something; I'm just not sure how much good it will do you." Wendy turned with a file in her hands. She handed the file to Catherine, and waited.

Catherine flipped it open and looked at the results. "Well, you got a match, but it's to the unidentified DNA taken from the Bass's house. Which…"

"Leaves us right where we started." Nick finished. "Wendy, was the mystery DNA from the house mixed with a female contribution?"

"Nope, it was a clean sample. One donor."

"So, was he with someone, or was it a self satisfying kind of deal?" Nick thought for a minute. "Hey, do you have the file from the mystery house donor?"

"Yeah it's right here." She sorted through some files on the counter, found the correct one, and handed it to Nick.

"What are you thinking Nick?" Catherine asked, intrigued.

"Let me look at this first. No sense getting your hopes up." Nick flipped through the file, finally coming upon what he needed. "This sample was found isolated. I found it in the butler's pantry; a small room off of the kitchen. I just figured one of the couple wanted a bit more privacy when I found this is there, but if it's clean, and left by our mystery donor, then it might not have been someone at the party, but someone watching the party."

"Were there any prints in the pantry?" Sara asked, tucking the thermos under her arm and reaching or the file.

"The only prints found in there belonged to the maid; a sixty-five year old woman who comes in from nine in the morning to six at night. On the day of the murder she was off to attend her grandson's birthday party." Nick supplied.

"So some guy goes in there, has his jollies while watching everyone else getting theirs, and leaves not one print? How is that possible?" Sara puzzled, sitting down on a stool.

"He just didn't touch anything but himself." Nick shrugged.

Sara shook her head. "He would have had to touch the door to go in, and to come out. The only way he wouldn't have left prints is if he had been wearing gloves and why would he wear gloves just to hide in there and pleasure himself…" Sara stopped and gasped. "Unless, unless he was already wearing gloves, and we have a whole list of people who were wearing gloves."

"Who?" Nick asked, leaning against the counter.

"The employees of the Gilmore Agency. They wear gloves to set up, one of them could have slipped into the pantry before the party, had a little fun, and then slipped out after everyone left." Sara smiled.

"But why would he kill not only Jake Bass and Samantha Lawrence, but also kill Rose Bass? What was his motive?" Nick asked.

Catherine spoke up. "Maybe he was in love with Rose and he saw how her husband treated her. He might have felt that he could do nothing about the people he slept with at the parties, but when he saw the husband with Samantha he might have thought it was a bigger insult, and killed them both in a fit of rage."

"But why kill Rose? If he was in love with her, and she slept with him, wouldn't that have made him happy?" Sara shook her head.

"Maybe she slept with him, but insulted him by saying the only way she could do it was to be zonked out of her mind. The male ego can be very fragile, and after watching her be with man after man at the parties, maybe he just lost it." Nick spoke up.

"Maybe, but the syringe speaks to pre-meditation, plus the setup doesn't seem like the kind of thing an enraged man would think to do." Catherine began to pace. "Where is the list of employee's from the Gilmore Agency?"

Sara stood up. "They're in the file I was reading. It's on my desk, I'll go get it." She left the room.

"You know, the employee's from the party planners would have been at the other parties as well. Do you think it's possible that one of them may have been involved with the burglaries?" Nick scratched his head.

"Anything is possible. I do know that Mr. Gilmore was sure that none of his employee's are criminals." Catherine said as Sara walked back into the room.

"Yeah, it's too bad he doesn't stick around for the parties." She said, as she flipped through the file.

Catherine looked up. "What do you mean?"

Sara paused and looked at her. "Mr. Gilmore. It's too bad he didn't hang around. If he had maybe he would have noticed something."

Catherine shook her head. "He told be he was in the kitchen during the party."

Nick spoke up. "How would that have been possible? A lot of the party took place in the kitchen, if he'd been in there he would have definitely been seen."

"And he prides himself on not being seen, so how was that possible." Catherine added.

Sara looked up from the employee list. "All of Mr. Gilmore's employees are female, the only person from his company that could have been in that pantry is him."

Catherine nodded. "I think we need a warrant for his DNA."

* * *

Sara stood behind the glass and watched as Catherine questioned the suspect. She turned when the door opened. "Hi, you're just in time to see Catherine at her best." She smiled and Grissom came over to stand next to her. In the other room Brass sat at the table with Catherine and Nick beside him, and Mr. Gilmore sat rigidly on the other side of the table.

"So his DNA was a match?" he asked.

"Yes, and that allowed us to get a warrant for his house and car. We found a syringe in his car, and we're having it tested. We also found trace amounts of that drug, Starry Night in his house, and that's not all…" She trailed off when she heard Catherine start to speak.

"Mr. Gilmore, we have enough to hold you for the murders of Samantha Lawrence, Jake Bass, and Rose Bass. What do you have to say for yourself?" Catherine sat forward and watched him.

Gilmore looked from Catherine, to Nick, and then over to Brass, who gave him a cold smile. "Why don't you answer the lady?"

Gilmore cleared his throat. "I did not kill Jake Bass. He was dead when I arrived."

Catherine opened a file and started laying out a series of photographs. They were all of the stolen items, from all of the burglaries, and they were found in the attic of his house. "You were there to steal these items?" She asked, pushing forward the relevant photos.

Gilmore stared at the photos for a while, and then spoke up. "Yes. I was there to take the items. Samantha, my assistant, was supposed to have everything ready to load, but when I got there I found her standing over the body of Jake Bass. She said that she was in love with him, and that he'd told her that she'd meant nothing to him. She'd freaked out, grabbed the gun and shot him." He stopped and took a deep breath. "I didn't know what to do. All the planning, all the hard work, and it could all go down the drain with a single round of questioning from the police. I had a statue in my hand from the garden room. I reacted without thinking. I hit her over the head and knocked her out. I didn't know what to do. I remembered that my uncle had died after surgery when an air bubble had gone to his heart. I'd looked It up afterward, just to make sure that the doctor's weren't at fault. I found out that though it doesn't always work, sometimes you can inject air into the bloodstream and it can travel to the heart. I thought it was worth a shot. I went to my car and got a syringe, and then I came back and injected her. It took a while, but eventually it worked. She died. I thought about getting rid of the bodies, but thought it might be more affective if I left them there. Rose would find them and finally know what kind of cheat she was married to, and know that she was finally free of him." He stopped and glanced down. "Sadly it didn't work out that way. She suspected right away that it was me, but she couldn't say anything or she' d be implicated as well, but I could see how it weighed on her."

Nick leaned forward. "So you decided to kill her?"

Gilmore looked at him sadly. "No. I went to see her. I used to work at the hotel she was staying in, so I knew how to get in without being seen. When I knocked on the door, and she saw that it was me, she… well she dragged me in. She said she was lonely, and asked me to make love to her." He smiled a bitter smile. "How I'd dreamed of those words from her lips. While working together for the last few years, seeing her so often, I'd had many dreams that one day she'd see her husband for the bastard he was and notice that I was always there. After waiting so long I must admit that I got carried away. When we were done she couldn't stop crying. She started talking about telling the police about the business. I knew that there was no way I could come out of that unscathed. I'd already killed. That was sure to come out. I didn't see any other choice. She's fallen asleep; I think she'd taken something. I went down to my car and got the syringe I hadn't gotten rid of yet, and I injected her. It took longer, and I thought it might not work this time, and I had this sliver of hope that that was the case, but alas, it worked. I began to think of how to slow down the discovery that she'd been killed, so I decided to make it look like she'd taken her own life." He hung his head.

Catherine looked at him sadly. Brass pushed a pad of paper over to him. "Write all that down. Try to remember all the details.

Sara looked at Grissom with a sad smile. "Do you think he loved her?"

He reached down and clasped her hand in his, caressing her knuckles. "No. He was infatuated, and in lust. If it were love, he would have died before killing her." He lifted her hand and kissed it. They heard the door knob turn and dropped their hands, but not as quickly as they should've. A member of the janitorial staff came in, and caught them as their hands were separating. She started and apologized.

"I-I'm sorry. I didn't know anyone was in here." She ducked her head and pointed towards the trash can. "Do you mind if I empty that?"

They told her to go ahead and looked back towards the people in the other room. "So he was behind the burglaries after all?" Grissom asked.

"Sort of, turns out that all of the so called victims were actually in on it. When the stolen items were examined they found that they all had hidden compartments. Traces of Starry Night were found in all of them; looks like it was a drug smuggling ring. They'd go to Europe, pick up the art and bring them back with fake receipts. After a while they would be 'stolen' and the owner would file an insurance claim. Once the drugs were sold they'd get a cut of that as well." Sara shrugged.

"Which of the seven deadly sins did these people NOT commit?" Grissom smiled.

"Well they worked pretty hard at it, so I guess you could cross Sloth off the list, but I think that at some point they all managed to hit the rest of them." Sara grinned. They saw that Catherine and Nick were leaving the other room, and Brass was reading Gilmore his rights. They walked towards the door to meet them not noticing the woman that was still watching them.

Grissom walked up to Catherine. "Nice job. Sara was just filling me in."

Catherine smiled. "Thanks, but I had lots of help. I'm just glad to have this case finished." She laughed. "It was bringing down my average!"

They all had a good laugh at that. Warrick and Greg walked down the hall to join them. "Hey guys, what's going on?" Greg asked, smiling.

They told him that the case was solved, and he smiled. "Wow, that's great. Why don't we all go out for breakfast to celebrate? We haven't all done that in a while.

Everyone agreed, and when Brass came out of the interview room they invited him along. "Sure, that's just what this old body needs, a nice infusion of saturated fat." He chuckled.

As the started down the hall Greg turned to Catherine. "Hey Cath, have you met my cousin, James?" Simultaneously they all turned and glared at him. "Okay, okay! I get the message." He grinned. "I was just kidding.

* * *


End file.
